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THE  NEIGHBOR 


THE  NEIGHBOR 

paturai  l^istorp  of  Duman  Contact^ 


BY 

N.  S.  SHALER 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

reW,  CambriDge 
1904 


COPYRIGHT  1904  BY  N.  S.  SIIALER 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

Published  April,  790* 


library 

HT 


PREFACE 

IN  this  book  I  have  endeavored  to  set  forth  some 
matters  concerning  the  intercourse  of  men  with 
their  neighbors  which  have  helped  me,  and  which  I 
hope  may  be  helpful  to  others  who  may  desire  to  go 
beyond  the  commonplace  relation  with  their  fellow- 
men.  The  greater  part  of  what  I  have  said  is,  so 
far  as  the  facts  go,  familiar  knowledge ;  my  effort 
has  been  to  shape  this  information  in  such  a  manner 
that  it  will  throw  light  on  human  relations. 

What  there  is  of  novelty  in  this  writing  is  mainly 
limited  to  the  effect  of  tribal  institutions  and  states 
of  mil  11 1  on  the  development  of  the  modern  common- 
wealth, and  to  the  effects  of  the  first  contacts  of 
individuals  on  their  subsequent  relations.  I  have 
endeavored  to  apply  certain  observations  on  those 
contact  phenomena  to  two  serious  race  problems, 
those  presented  by  the  intercourse  of  the  Jews  and 
the  Negroes  with  the  people  of  our  own  race.  In  so 
doing  I  have  been  compelled  to  set  forth  judgments 


vi  PREFACE 

as  to  the  character  and  qualities  of  these  folk  which 
are  likely  to  prove  offensive  to  some  of  their  mem- 
bers. I  realize  that  it  is  a  serious  and  difficult  mat- 
ter to  characterize  races  as  a  whole  or  to  judge 
them  on  the  basis  of  any  experience  such  as  can 
come  to  any  one  person.  Where  I  have  done  this 
task  with  the  Israelites  and  the  Americanized  Afri- 
cans it  has  been  done  from  long  and  patient  study 
of  those  peoples.  The  questions  as  to  their  nature 
which  I  have  discussed  have  been  hi  my  mind  for 
about  forty  years,  so  that  if  the  judgments  are  hi 
error  the  mistakes  are  not  due  to  haste. 

The  plan  of  the  book  has  required  a  restatement 
of  certain  points  more  extendedly  treated  in  a  vol- 
ume entitled,  "  The  Individual :  A  Study  of  Life  and 
Death,"  which  was  published  two  years  ago.  The 
repetition  of  this  matter  gives  a  certain  look  of 
similarity  to  these  works ;  they  are,  however,  essen- 
tially dissimilar.  "  The  Individual "  is  an  essay  to- 
wards a  better  understanding  of  what  the  solitary 
condition  of  man  means  in  the  order  of  nature ;  this 
on  the  natural  history  of  the  neighbor  endeavors  to 
set  forth  some  of  the  conditions  of  human  contact 
as  they  are  influenced  by  the  organic  education  of 


PREFACE  vn 

mankind.    In  effect  the  two  pieces  of  work  seek 
essentially  diverse,  though  in  a  way  related,  ends. 

Although  this  book  is  in  effect  a  plea  for  a  larger 
understanding  of  the  differences  between  men,  I 
would  have  the  reader  approach  it  with  some  sense 
of  the  significance  of  the  questions  it  discusses.  I 
ask  him  if  it  is  not  evident  that  the  antecedents  which 
determine  the  state  of  mind  with  which  he  meets  an 
alien  man  are  of  great  importance  hi  determining 
his  judgments  concerning  him.  I  ask  him  further  to 
note  that  all  our  efforts  to  unite  men  in  human  asso- 
ciations, societies,  states,  and  nations,  depend  upon 
the  measure  hi  which  we  may  be  able  to  overcome 
certain  instinctive  prejudices  which  grievously  hinder 
such  union  of  men  in  the  common  endeavors  which 
advance  mankind.  If  he  will  but  see  one  instance  of 
this,  that  of  the  Negro  problem  hi  the  United  States, 
a  type  of  what  has  to  be  faced  the  world  about,  he 
will  perceive  how  the  question  of  the  natural  history 
of  the  neighbor  lies  not  only  at  the  foundation  of 
morals,  but  of  statecraft  as  well ;  and  that  we  need  to 
understand  it  in  order  to  shape  our  commonwealth. 

N.  S.  S. 
CAMBRIDGE,  Mass., 

September,  1903. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPT1R  PAOD 

I.  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL      ...      1 

II.  ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  or  MAN 10 

HI.  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  HATRED 21 

IV.  ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE 28 

V.  NATURE  AND  VALUE  OF  ETHNIC  MOTIVES  .    .    51 

VI.  THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM 72 

VII.  THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN 126 

VTII.  THE    CATEGORIC    MOTIVE    IN    HUMAN    RELA- 
TIONS    192 

IX.  THE  CONDITIONS  OF  THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN    .  204 
X.  TOE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY  AND  SPECIES 

IN  ORGANIC  LIFE 236 

XI.  THE  WAY  OUT 260 

INDEX  .  337 


THE    NEIGHBOR 

CHAPTER  I 
ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL 

THE  subject  of  the  inquiries  which  are  hereinafter 
set  forth  may  be  shortly  defined  as  follows.  In  the 
case  of  mankind,  as  with  all  other  organic  groups, 
we  have  a  multitude  of  individuals  all  of  which  have 
to  establish  more  or  less  permanent  relations  with 
their  kindred  of  various  degrees.  These  relations  are 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  the  persons  concerned 
in  them,  for  they  determine  their  lot.  They  are  of 
even  more  moment  to  the  life  of  the  group  to  which 
they  belong,  for  on  them  may  depend  its  success 
or  failure  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Such  re- 
lations between  individuals,  though  they  are  of  rela- 
tively simple  nature,  exist  among  the  units  of  the 
lower  inorganic  realm.  The  atoms,  molecules,  crys- 
tals, and  celestial  spheres  act  and  react  on  one  an- 
other and  have  then:  profit  or  loss  from  the  exchange 
of  influences ;  in  fact,  the  visible  universe,  so  far  as 
we  know  it,  appears  to  be  made  up  of  such  isolated 
structures,  each  having  for  its  share  the  task  of 


2  THE  NEIGHBOR 

receiving  impressions  from  the  others  within  the 
limits  of  environment  and  of  sending  forth  its  influ- 
ences to  all  the  like  individualities  within  the  range 
of  its  actions. 

One  of  the  noblest  accomplishments  of  modern 
science  has  been  to  show  us  something  of  this  ex- 
change of  influences  which  goes  on  hi  that  vast 
realm  of  atomic  relations.  We  see,  though  as  yet 
but  dimly,  how  the  more  or  less  temporary  groupings 
of  these  inconceivably  small  units  give  us  all  the  va- 
ried qualities  of  matter.  In  one  order  of  arrangement, 
in  any  set  of  atoms,  we  have  a  molecule  which  sends 
forth  a  stream  of  actions  that  affects  the  realm  about 
it  in  a  certain  manner.  If  we  change  the  grouping 
of  the  association  with  no  other  alteration  save  that 
brought  about  by  the  change  in  the  number  or 
position  of  its  units,  the  qualities  it  sends  forth  are 
altered,  it  may  be  in  effect  infinitely,  so  that  an  in- 
conceivable variety  of  properties  can  be  produced  by 
what  seems  to  be  no  more  than  a  change  of  place 
of  the  constituent  units.  Thus  by  a  mere  shifting  of 
the  stations  of  the  thirty  atoms  of  carbon  in  a  mole- 
cule of  a  certain  kind  of  alcohol,  species  of  that 
group  may  be  produced  in  number  so  great  as  to 
transcend  the  imagination.  The  sum  of  the  hi  no- 
vations thus  originated  may  far  exceed  a  million 
million,  and  each  of  the  perturbations  gives  rise 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL    3 

to  substances  of  new  qualities,  that  is,  to  forms 
of  matter  each  of  which  has  a  peculiar  influence 
on  its  environment.  It  is  evident  that  even  hi 
the  relatively  simple  conditions  of  the  atoms  of  a 
molecule,  what  appear  to  be  very  slight  alterations 
in  the  relation  of  its  atomic  units  to  each  other  in 
some  inevitable  way  alter  the  quality  of  the  action 
which  the  association  exercises  on  the  individuals 
about  it. 

Great  as  are  the  effects  arising  from  the  diversi- 
ties in  the  groupings  of  units  in  the  atomic  field, 
the  value  of  such  reciprocal  influence  on  any  part 
of  the  inorganic  realm  is  small  as  compared  with 
what  it  is  in  that  of  the  organic.  In  all  the  living 
associations  of  matter  the  physical  and  chemical 
effects  arising  from  changes  in  the  position  of  the 
units  are  exhibited  quite  as  well  as  they  are  in  those 
which  are  inanimate ;  but  in  addition  to  the  proper- 
ties due  to  atomic  and  molecular  conditions,  we  have 
in  living  things  other  higher  and  more  varied  quali- 
ties due  to  the  peculiar  kinds  of  association  which 
come  about  with  life.  We  need  now  to  glance  at 
these  characteristics  of  animate  individuals. 

I  have  elsewhere  and  hi  more  detail  than  is  re- 
quired for  my  present  purpose  endeavored  to  show 
that  the  essential  difference  between  the  living  or 
organic  and  the  inorganic  or  non-living  realms  con- 


4  THE  NEIGHBOR 

sists  in  that  fact  that  in  the  organic  the  qualities  ex- 
hibited by  the  individuals  of  any  species  —  as,  for  in- 
stance, those  of  any  particular  kind  of  atom,  molecule, 
or  crystals  —  are,  under  the  same  environing  condi- 
tions, always  precisely  alike.  Thus  the  atoms  of  the 
farthest  stars  are  evidently  the  same  as  those  of  the 
earth,  and  a  crystal  of  quartz  formed  in  the  Archaean 
age,  if  built  under  like  environment,  in  no  wise  dif- 
fers from  one  we  make  in  our  laboratories.  On  the 
other  hand,  because  they  inherit  their  experience 
with  environment  from  their  ancestors  and  are  much 
affected  by  that  experience,  organic  individuals  are 
in  their  generational  succession  in  constant  process 
of  modification.  They  are  ever  changing  as  regards 
what  they  take  from  and  give  to  their  surroundings. 
This  is  perhaps  most  clearly  seen  when  we  consider 
the  difference  between  the  lowest  living  forms  in  the 
series  of  beings  which  led  to  mankind,  and  the  last 
of  the  great  procession,  man  himself.  The  quality  of 
the  last  term,  man,  that  is,  its  capacity  for  influencing 
its  neighbors,  of  acting  on  and  being  acted  on  by  the 
environing  individuals,  is  evidently  vastly  different 
from  the  first.  Moreover,  this  organic  feature  of  in- 
herited quality  brings  about  changes  not  only  from 
generation  to  generation  and  from  species  to  species, 
but  it  is  likely  to  change  very  much  hi  the  lifetime 
of  each  of  the  persons  in  the  succession.  Thus  while 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL     5 

permanence  of  quality  is  a  general  feature  in  the 
inorganic  realm,  in  the  organic  we  find  an  endless  flux 
in  that  quality,  and  a  consequent  variation  in  the 
influences  which  the  individual  exercises  on  its  en- 
vironment. 

Although  the  observer  may,  with  very  little  study, 
see  enough  of  the  order  of  nature  to  note  the  fact 
that  what  is  done  hi  the  visible  universe  is,  so  far 
as  we  can  see,  accomplished  by  individualities  of  va- 
rious grades  from  the  lowest  of  the  physical  to  the 
highest  of  the  organic  realm,  it  is  not  easy  to  see 
far  enough  into  the  matter  to  recognize  how,  as  the 
development  of  the  individualizing  process  goes  on, 
the  value  of  the  unit  steadily  gains.  Although  the 
scope  and  variety  of  actions  of  an  atom  are  evidently 
great,  probably  far  greater  than  we  shall  ever  know, 
they  are  relatively  very  limited  as  compared  with 
those  of  a  molecule  made  up  of  many  such  units, 
and  the  field  of  influential  qualities  in  the  lowest 
living  form  must  be  vastly  more  extended  than  hi  the 
case  of  the  highest  of  those  which  are  not  informed 
by  life.  As  we  go  up  in  the  organic  series,  the  influ- 
ences which  the  creature  receives  from  and  sends  forth 
to  the  individualities  about  it  steadily  increase.  This 
advance  is  made  even  when  the  gain  is  in  structure 
alone,  but  it  becomes  very  much  more  evident  in  the 
series  of  animals  which  develop  intelligence.  Such 


6  THE  NEIGHBOR 

creatures  receive  and  send  forth  influences  in  pro- 
portion to  their  intellectual  capacity,  and  with  each 
increment  of  that  power  the  scope  of  those  reactions 
is  increased  in  an  exceedingly  rapid  proportion. 

The  result  of  the  system  of  evolving  individuali- 
ties of  higher  and  higher  grade  attains,  so  far  as  the 
naturalist  discerns,  its  summit  in  man.  It  is  highly 
improbable  that  in  human  kind  we  have  the  actual 
culmination  of  this  evidently  pervading  motive  of 
advance,  this  most  deep-seated  and  apparently  uni- 
versal impulse  of  the  visible  universe ;  it  is,  indeed, 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  it  extends  without  limit 
throughout  the  realm,  and  that  there  are  at  least  as 
many  kinds  of  individuals  of  a  higher  grade  as  there 
are  of  a  lower  grade  than  ourselves.  For  our  prob- 
lem, however,  we  need  consider  no  more  than  the  evi- 
dent fact  that  by  a  process  of  evolution,  which,  so  far 
as  we  can  see,  is  of  universal  application,  we  as  men 
have  come  by  successive  stages  of  advance  —  lead- 
ing through,  perhaps,  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 
different  organic  species  —  up  to  a  station  where  we 
have  a  singular  capacity  of  receiving  from  the  world 
about  us,  and  sending  back  to  that  world,  a  body  of 
influences  in  range  and  scope  immeasurably  greater 
than  those  that  came  to  or  went  forth  from  any  of 
the  lower  creatures  whence  our  life  was  derived. 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  extent  to  which  man 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL    7 

has  become  the  recipient  and  the  originator  of  influ- 
ences. We  see  something  of  the  dynamic  value  of 
the  creature  when  we  behold  the  vast  effect  he  has 
had  on  the  physical  conditions  of  the  earth :  how  he 
has  swept  away  forests,  extirpated  a  host  of  animals, 
and  changed  the  nature  of  the  life  over  wide  areas 
of  its  surface.  In  his  battles  with  the  beasts,  with 
his  fellow-men,  and  with  the  nature  that  opposes  his 
desires,  we  see  only  the  ruder  and  less  important 
side  of  his  power ;  the  more  important  is  discerned 
by  those  alone  who  attend  to  what  we  may  term  the 
moral  side  of  his  activities,  to  those  actions  which 
influence  for  good  or  ill  the  well-being  of  the  fellow- 
creatures  of  his  own  or  other  kinds  which  share 
life  with  him.  Because  these  effects  of  the  individ- 
ual person  or  of  those  higher  personalities  created 
where  such  units  are  merged  into  societies  or  states 
are  not  visible  to  the  eye,  they  are  inevitably  neg- 
lected. Reflection,  however,  will  show  the  student 
of  such  matters  that  every  human  being  is  a  centre 
which  receives  an  almost  infinite  array  of  moral  im- 
pulses and  transmits  a  like  host  to  other  life.  If  by 
some  art  we  could  render  these  movements  visi- 
ble, these  persons  would  no  longer  seem  as  they  now 
do  to  be  solitary,  little  affected  and  little  affecting 
things,  but  each  would  appear  as  a  sun  ruling  and 
being  ruled  by  a  host  of  like  orbs,  receiving  influ- 


8  THE  NEIGHBOR 

ences  from  millions  of  its  kind  and  sending  in  re- 
turn the  like  to  each  and  all  of  its  fellows. 

The  conception  of  the  individual  man  as  the  pre- 
sent summit  of  a  series  of  advancing  individualities, 
each,  in  the  measure  of  its  advancement,  the  centre 
of  relations  with  the  sources  from  which  it  receives 
and  to  which  it  sends  influences,  helps  us  in  many 
ways  to  see  the  moral  status  of  our  kind.  It  is  evi- 
dent that,  as  the  result  of  this  evolution,  human 
beings  have  in  effect  become  agencies  by  which 
energy  is  transformed  from  its  lower  states  of  mani- 
festation, such  as  it  exhibits  in  the  physical  realm, 
to  the  higher  intellectual  plane.  What  we  do  as 
men  is  accomplished  by  the  conversion  of  the  forces 
which  come  to  us  from  the  chemical  and  physical 
fields,  where  they  have  operated  from  the  beginning 
of  the  present  state  of  the  universe,  into  action  which 
is  guided  by  mind.  All  the  energy  which  we  apply 
in  any  kind  of  thought  is  in  no  sense  originated  in 
the  thinking ;  it  is  merely  converted  from  the  lower 
to  the  higher  use.  So  far  as  we  can  clearly  discern, 
this  force  when  used  commonly  falls  back  into  the 
lower  ancient  plane  of  activity,  but  there  is  an  evi- 
dent and  most  important  remainder  which  does  not 
thus  return  to  the  primal  state  but  abides  in  the 
higher  plane  in  the  influence  which  the  thought- 
guided  actions  have  upon  the  conduct  of  other  indi- 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL      9 

viduals.  Thus,  though  the  mere  dynamic  values  of 
the  apparently  temporary  life  fall  back  into  the  lower 
ancient  store,  the  qualities  of  that  life  which  are  really 
its  important  part  remain  and  are  sent  on  to  direct 
the  course  of  other  individuals,  which  in  turn  are  to 
shape  matter  and  energy  to  the  task  of  living. 

It  should  be  understood  that  the  limited  view 
just  above  suggested,  as  to  the  value  of  the  indi- 
vidual life  as  a  source  of  influence  in  other  lives,  is 
to  be  regarded  as  but  the  immediate  judgment  of 
the  naturalist  working  within  the  limits  of  his  craft, 
which  allows  him  to  deal  with  no  more  than  the 
evidently  visible,  or  that  which  may  be  directly  in- 
ferred from  observations  of  facts.  He  may  suspect 
or  believe  that  there  is  something  other  than  the 
directing  influence  of  the  individual  being  that  sur- 
vives death,  but  under  his  limitations  he  cannot  deal 
with  that  question.  It  is  clear  that  one  of  these  sur- 
vivals is  that  of  directing  power  by  which,  to  take 
the  most  significant  example,  a  Jewish  peasant  who 
died  near  two  thousand  years  ago  shapes  to  this  day 
by  his  brief  and  simple  life  the  ways  of  men.  Thus 
while  the  naturalist's  way  of  looking  at  the  matter 
is  narrow,  and  leaves  aside  a  very  momentous  part 
of  it,  the  body  of  fact  he  has  to  consider  is  of 
momentous  importance.  • 


CHAPTER  II 
ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  OF  MAN 

THE  proportion  of  the  influences  which  the  indi- 
vidual of  any  species  receives  or  sends  forth  varies 
through  an  almost  infinite  range.  In  the  inorganic 
world  the  action  of  the  unit  under  given  conditions 
is  essentially  invariable,  —  it  may  be  regarded  as 
mechanical  in  its  nature ;  in  the  organic  field,  at 
least  among  animals,  both  the  reception  and  trans- 
mission of  actions  are  affected  by  the  operation  of 
some  form  of  intelligence.  For  our  present  purpose 
this  intelligence  may  be  regarded  as  a  condition  of 
action  in  which  the  particular  deed  is  qualified  by 
experience  gained  by  the  individual  hi  its  own  life  or 
that  of  its  ancestors,  and  so  stored  in  memory  that 
it  may  be  used  to  qualify  the  otherwise  machine-like 
response  to  stimulus.  Thus  defined  we  may  if  we 
please  regard  the  relations  of  the  plants  to  their  en- 
vironment as  intelligent,  for  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  in  them  there  are  inheritances  from  the  experi- 
ence of  ancestors  which  are  brought  into  the  equa- 
tion which  determines  their  conduct,  so  that,  unlike 


ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  OF  MAN       11 

the  inorganic  units  such  as  the  atom  or  the  crystal, 
their  individual  deeds  are,  in  a  measure,  determined 
by  those  of  the  forms  through  which  their  life  was 
derived. 

The  result  of  the  introduction  of  intelligence  in 
the  shape  of  previously  inherited  experience  is  very 
greatly  to  extend  the  range  and  scope  of  the  inter- 
actions of  individuals.  So  long  as  the  reaction  to  im- 
pulse was  mechanical,  it  was  necessarily  determined 
by  the  dynamic  equations  of  the  moment  in  which  it 
took  place.  As  soon  as  any  form  of  memory  entered 
as  a  factor,  the  result  became  determined  by  new 
and  vastly  extended  conditions,  and  what  we  may 
in  the  larger  sense  of  the  word  term  the  moral 
realm  was  entered  on.  In  the  lower  life,  that  of 
plants  and  the  invertebrate  animals,  the  reactions 
to  stimulus,  due  to  inheritance  and  to  environment, 
though  they  may  be  much  affected  by  the  intellec- 
tual forces,  retain  a  certain  kind  of  fatality,  for  the 
reason  that,  even  where  there  is  evidence  of  a  strong 
individual  will,  the  actions  of  the  creature  are  con- 
fined to  certain  determined  paths;  so  that  while 
they  are  not  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word  mechani- 
cal as  in  the  lower  physical  realm,  they  are  in  large 
measure  what  may  be  termed  inevitable.  With  the 
beginning  of  the  vertebrate  group  organic  life  enters 
on  a  series  of  changes,  which  in  a  tolerably  continu- 


12  THE  NEIGHBOR 

ous  manner  serves  to  elevate  and  aggrandize  the  in- 
tellectual value  of  the  individual,  leading,  in  various 
branches  of  the  type,  to  a  number  of  considerable 
successes,  and  in  man,  to  the  supreme  accomplish- 
ment which  this  planet  is  to  attain. 

The  peculiar  success  of  the  vertebrate  animals  ap- 
pears to  be  due  to  two  important  structural  features, 
which  are  characteristic  of  the  group,  and  consti- 
tute important  departures  from  the  preceding  lower 
plans  or  systems  of  architecture  in  this  kingdom. 
First,  or  at  least  the  most  evident,  of  these,  is  that 
the  jointed  skeleton,  which  hi  all  the  lower  groups 
is  effectively  external,  in  the  invertebrates  is  to  be 
internal.  The  result  of  this  change  is  that  those 
hard  parts  which  enable  the  creature  to  be  sup- 
ported and  to  apply  muscular  force,  do  not  have  to 
be  shed  from  time  to  tune  in  the  process  of  growth, 
as  is  the  case  with  the  crustaceans  and  the  insects, 
so  that  the  creature  can  steadfastly  increase  hi  size 
while  remaining  continuously  active.  "With  the  ar- 
ticulated animals,  on  the  contrary,  the  process  of 
shedding  the  external  hard  parts  makes  it  necessary 
for  them  to  be  for  a  time  without  the  protection  and 
support  which  they  require  for  their  activities.  The 
result  of  this  is  that  while  the  crustaceans  and  the 
kindred  forms  are  in  most  ways  supremely  fortunate 
animals,  they  are  denied  the  chance  of  dominance 


ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  OF  MAN       13 

by  the  fact  that  their  skeletons  have  from  time  to 
time  to  be  cast  away,  which  makes  it  impossible  for 
them  to  attain  any  considerable  bulk.  How  effec- 
tive this  limitation  has  been  may  be  judged  by  the 
evident  fact  that  the  average  weight  of  mature  in- 
sects is  certainly  less  than  one  ten-thousandth  that 
of  adult  vertebrates. 

The  other  peculiarity  of  the  vertebrates  is  closely 
related  to  the  constitution  of  the  vertebrated  skele- 
ton, for  it  led  to  the  institution  of  that  structure ;  it 
consists  in  the  invention  of  a  special  tract,  that  of 
the  spinal  cord,  and  later  the  brain,  which  is  effec- 
tively an  addition  to  that  series  of  parts  existing  in 
the  invertebrate  group.  In  those  lowlier  forms  all 
the  work  of  receiving  impressions  from  without  and 
reacting  on  them,  as  well  as  the  control  of  the  func- 
tions of  the  various  parts  of  the  body,  is  effected 
in  the  simplest  forms,  such  as  the  protozoa,  by  the 
diffused  nervous  capacity  which  primarily  exists  in 
organic  matter ;  higher  up  hi  the  several  advancing 
series  there  develop  sets  of  nerves  and  ganglia,  all 
tied  together  in  structure,  so  that  the  intellectual 
and  organic  work  are  done  by  the  same  parts.  The 
essential  peculiarity  of  the  cerebro-spinal  or  ver- 
tebrate nervous  system  is  that,  while  it  hi  some 
measure  serves  to  direct  the  work  of  the  body,  its 
principal  function  is  to  receive  impressions  from 


14  THE  NEIGHBOR 

without,  and  to  act  as  the  seat  of  the  intelligence. 
It  is,  as  regards  the  most  important  work,  a  bureau 
of  foreign  affairs,  and  as  such  is  the  seat  of  the  intel- 
lectual powers  of  the  creature. 

In  its  initial  stage  the  nervous  system  character- 
istic of  the  vertebrates  is  no  more  than  a  simple 
nerve  supported  by  what  is  at  first  but  a  carti- 
laginous rod,  which  is  channeled  to  receive  the 
nerve.  From  this  primitive  simplicity  of  the  Chor- 
data,  well  shown  by  the  lancelet,  the  advance  to- 
wards the  characteristic  skeletal  arrangements  of 
the  higher  back-boned  animals  is  made  with  singu- 
lar speed,  and  as  if  to  appointed  ends.  What  was  a 
mere  supporting  rod  soon  incloses  the  spinal  cord ; 
it  hardens,  becomes  jointed  in  the  characteristic 
manner  of  the  back-bone,  and  deVelops  the  special- 
ized head,  or  casing,  for  the  enlargement  of  the  tract 
which  forms  the  brain.  From  the  joints  of  the  ver- 
tebrae double  processes  which  are  to  become  the  ribs 
extend  downwards  along  the  sides  of  the  trunk ;  and 
others,  single,  grow  upwards  to  form  the  spines  of 
the  several  segments.  The  whole  is  quickly  shaped 
so  as  to  serve  as  an  elastic  framework  by  which  the 
muscles  can  swing  the  afterpart  of  the  body  in  the 
sculling  motion  by  which  most  fishes  swim.  This  is 
the  first  and  in  the  fish  stage  the  only  important 
use  of  the  jointed  skeleton  which  has  its  beginning 


ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  OF  MAN       15 

in  that  group.  In  the  later  developments  it  ceases 
to  have  value,  yet  even  among  the  higher  mammals 
the  ancient  habit  of  swinging  the  afterpart  of  the 
body  in  the  sculling  movement  remains,  though  it 
serves,  as  in  the  dog,  only  as  a  means  of  expressing 
a  pleasurable  sense  of  activity. 

In  the  icthyc  or  earliest  stage  of  the  vertebrate 
skeleton,  while  the  only  method  in  which  progres- 
sion could  be  accomplished  was  by  the  swinging  tail, 
the  fore  and  hind  limbs  which  were  ever  afterwards 
to  control  the  ways  of  vertebrate  life  began  to  form. 
At  first  these  structures,  essentially  fins,  are  so 
slight  and  inefficient  that  it  is  unreasonable  to  at- 
tribute their  development  to  the  process  of  natural 
selection.  At  best  they  serve  only  as  balancing 
organs,  in  some  measure  preventing  the  rolling  mo- 
tion of  the  body  which  the  strokes  of  the  tail  may 
tend  to  produce.  Those  who  know  living  fishes  well 
are  likely  to  agree  with  me  in  the  opinion  that  these 
paired  fins  have  no  such  functional  value  as  would 
by  selective  action  lead  to  their  development.  Yet 
there  is  an  absolute  justification  for  their  existence 
in  that  they  are  the  beginnings  of  the  fore  and  hind 
limbs  of  all  the  higher  vertebrates.  Those  parts 
which  have  so  far  determined  the  bodies  and  minds 
of  the  series  of  amphibians,  reptiles,  birds,  and  mam- 
mals, are  in  the  end  the  inheritance  of  man. 


16  THE  NEIGHBOR 

It  is  not  our  task  to  consider  how  the  fins  of  the 
fishes  came  to  be,  or  in  what  manner  the  limbs  of 
the  higher  classes  of  the  type  were  developed  from 
these  lowly  beginnings.  For  our  purpose  we  need 
only  to  note  that  the  conditions  under  which  these 
structures  arose  in  the  first  steps  of  the  vertebrates 
determined  that  there  should  never  be  more  than 
four  of  these  instruments  which  the  general  skele- 
ton affords  for  the  uses  of  the  will.  Here  and  there 
these  limbs  are  supplemented  by  the  jaws,  or  by 
elongations  of  the  lips,  as  in  the  elephant ;  by  horns 
or  antlers,  as  in  the  ruminants  and  some  other 
brutes ;  but  for  all  the  higher  work  of  the  will  the 
vertebrate  is  limited  to  very  few  parts  that  are  of 
any  efficiency. 

The  result  of  the  curious  limitation  in  the  parts 
which  are  subservient  to  the  will  of  the  vertebrate 
is  to  lessen  the  value  of  inherited  experience  in  their 
actions,  and  correspondingly  to  increase  that  of  indi- 
vidual thought.  In  the  bees  and  ants,  on  the  one 
hand,  where  the  bodily  parts  are  so  arranged  that 
they  afford  apparatus  accurately  fitted  for  all  the 
needs  of  their  wills,  the  result  is  that  the  mind  oper- 
ates in  the  automatic  manner  which  we  term  in- 
stinctive, where,  though  the  action  is  other  than 
mechanical  for  the  reason  that  it  is  guided  by  a  mode 
of  memory,  it  is  narrowly  limited  as  are  the  deeds 


ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  OF  MAN      17 

which  we  do  in  what  is  called  an  automatic  way,  as 
the  child  sucks  the  mother,  or  as  the  eyelids  close 
when  the  eye  is  threatened.  On  the  other  hand,  hi 
the  vertebrates,  though  there  is  something  of  the 
mechanically  operating  instincts,  the  creature  is  con- 
tinually being  led  by  the  limitations  of  its  frame  un- 
consciously to  contrive  means  for  attaining  its  ends. 
We  see  the  effect  of  this  need  in  all  the  series  of 
this  type ;  in  the  nest-building  fishes  ;  in  the  amphi- 
bians ;  in  certain  reptiles ;  extensively  in  the  birds ; 
but  most  abundantly  in  the  mammals,  where  the 
struggle  of  the  will  with  imperfect  instruments  cul- 
minates in  the  developed  intelligence  of  man, — an 
intelligence  which  has  been  forced  towards  the  hu- 
man quality  by  the  need  of  doing  much  with  the 
pair  of  hands  that  alone  serve  the  behests  of  the 
will.  In  a  word,  if  man  had  been  as  amply  pro- 
vided with  instruments  suited  to  his  needs  as  is  the 
bee,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  quality  of 
his  intelligence  would  have  been  no  more  rational 
than  that  of  the  insects.  He  has,  indeed,  won  to  his 
high  estate  because  with  a  vigorous  nervous  sys- 
tem and  corresponding  will  his  ancestry  denied  him 
other  than  the  most  limited  instruments  for  accom- 
plishing his  desires. 

While  the  physical  conditions  which  led  to  man 
have  served  in  large  part  to  lift  his  intellect  above 


18  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  plane  of  instinct  and  give  it  the  quality  of  ration- 
ality, the  quality  that  reckons  and  judges,  the  result 
has  by  no  means  been  to  extinguish  the  ancient 
instinctive  motives.  In  effect,  the  rational  groups  of 
motives  have  been  superadded  to  the  more  ancient 
unconscious  or  emotional  kinds  of  mind,  with  the 
result  that  hi  the  higher  groups  of  mammals,  and 
especially  in  the  human  genus,  the  impulses  which 
blindly  lead  to  action  are  about  as  strong  though 
perhaps  less  definite  than  they  are  in  the  insects. 
They  appear  to  be  more  varied  than  hi  any  in- 
vertebrates, perhaps  for  the  reason  that  they  are 
all  in  some  measure  qualified  by  the  higher  intelli- 
gence. Thus  we  recognize  in  man  all  the  motives  we 
find  exhibited  in  the  bees ;  love  of  offspring,  of  the 
fellow-members  of  his  society,  the  greed  of  acquisi- 
tion, fear  of  enemies,  rage,  valor,  in  a  word  all  of 
those  motives  that  are  manifested  by  social  insects 
of  the  militant  type.  What  other  impulses  appar- 
ently of  the  instinctive  order  we  may  discern  in  our 
genus  can  be  accounted  for  by  the  cooperation  of  the 
higher  intelligence  with  the  lower.  Thus  the  motive 
of  personal  sympathy  with  the  fellow  of  the  species, 
which  is  found  in  some  measure  among  very  many 
of  the  birds  and  mammals  and  is  especially  charac- 
teristic of  well-developed  human  beings,  but  which 
apparently  does  not  exist  among  the  insects  or  other 


ON  CERTAIN  CONDITIONS  OF  MAN      19 

invertebrates,  is  not  in  its  nature  primal  but  sec- 
ondary; it  grows  out  of  the  intellectual  capacity 
to  recognize  the  essential  kinship  with  the  brother, 
which  makes  it  possible  to  picture  his  sufferings  as 
our  own. 

We  have  come  now  to  the  purpose  of  this  seeming 
digression  concerning  the  origin  of  man's  intelli- 
gence :  it  is  that  we  may  see  even  in  the  baldest  out- 
lines how  it  has  come  about  that  in  man  we  have  a 
mingling  of  the  ancient  primal  form  of  intelligence 
which  acts  without  consciousness,  and  is  blindly 
moved  by  the  form  of  mental  impulse  we  term  in- 
stinctive, and  the  higher  rational  quality  which  ap- 
pears to  be  limited  to  the  vertebrates  alone.  Even 
those  who  are  least  skilled  in  the  analysis  of  their 
motives  can  clearly  see  how  these  two  groups  of 
mental  actions  are  combined  in  deeds.  The  inherited 
hatreds,  sympathies,  and  affections  which  are  the 
basis  of  human  relations  are  of  the  ancient  pre-human 
order,  but  the  conduct  of  life  which  gives  them  effi- 
ciency is  of  the  new,  for  it  is  guided  by  the  con- 
structive imagination,  by  the  reason,  and  by  know- 
ledge acquired  hi  the  lifetime  of  the  individual.  It 
is  the  first  object  of  education  and  the  noblest  re- 
sult of  civilizing  culture  to  bring  these  two  groups 
of  mental  parts  into  a  fit  coordination  so  that  they 
together  make  the  enlarged  humanized  man.  It 


20  THE  NEIGHBOR 

is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that  all  the  important 
errors  of  conduct,  all  the  burdens  of  men  or  of  soci- 
eties are  caused  by  the  inadequacies  in  the  asso- 
ciation of  the  primal  animal  emotions  with  those 

mental  powers  which  have  been  so  rapidly  developed 

• 

in  mankind. 


CHAPTER  III 
ON  THE  NATURE  OF  HATRED 

WHEN  we  examine  into  those  inherited  motives 
of  man  derived  from  the  life  far  below  the  human 
plane,  we  find  among  the  foremost,  second  only  to 
hunger  in  its  intensity  and  constancy,  that  of  hatred. 
Sexual  passion  is  perhaps  more  intense ;  but  among 
most  brutes  it  is  developed  only  at  certain  sea- 
sons, while  the  impulse  of  hate  is  ever  ready  to  con- 
trol activities  and  is  quickened  by  slight  accidents. 
This  emotion  is  evident  in  all  the  invertebrates 
which  exhibit  any  distinct  mental  capacity.  It  is  ex- 
hibited in  the  crustaceans,  in  the  spiders,  and  the 
true  insects,  as  well  as  in  the  cephalopod  mollusks. 
In  the  vertebrate  series  it  is  apparently  universal, 
no  well  observed  species  failing  to  show  some  trace 
of  it.  It  is  evidently  a  concomitant  of  activity,  de- 
veloping in  every  form  that  reacts  vigorously  on  its 
environment,  and  in  some  proportion  to  the  energy 
of  that  reaction.  In  man,  the  most  intensely  reac- 
tive of  all  creatures,  the  one  that  receives  the  most 
from  the  outer  world  and  sends  the  most  back  to  it, 


22  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  motive  of  hatred  is  evidently  the  most  vigorous 
and  wide-ranging  that  we  find  in  the  animal  king- 
dom. In  him  the  impulse  is  excited  by  more  varied 
conditions,  and  plays  a  larger  part  in  the  conduct  of 
the  creature  than  hi  any  of  the  lower  forms. 

To  understand  how  the  large  development  of  the 
motive  of  hatred  in  man  has  come  about  we  need  to 
look  to  the  conditions  of  animal  activity  in  the  lower 
groups,  especially  those  which  are  hi  or  near  the 
series  of  forms  where  the  primitive  elements  of  hu- 
man quality  were  shaped.  A  glance  at  this  wide  field 
shows  us  that  wherever  the  desires  of  any  creature 
become  vigorous  the  will  which  seeks  to  enforce 
them  attains  a  proportionate  intensity.  The  individ- 
ual throws  itself  against  its  environment  and  the 
unending  game  of  chase  and  flight  begins.  As  in 
ourselves,  the  effort  to  capture  or  to  escape  com- 
mands the  utmost  of  the  mental  powers,  and  the 
state  of  mind  induced  by  this  activity  is  the  sim- 
plest form  of  hatred.  In  mankind,  the  motive  may, 
and  commonly  does,  become  more  or  less  compli- 
cated with  the  rational  powers ;  even  in  the  lower 
life  it  may  be  mingled  with  other  instincts  such  as 
fear,  but  in  its  simplest  expression  it  is  the  impulse 
which  leads  to  slaying,  be  it  to  gratify  hunger,  to 
overcome  the  sexual  rival,  or  to  avoid  the  pursuer. 
In  one  or  another  of  these  modes  it  is  effectively  a 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  HATRED     23 

permanent  motive ;  in  all  the  vertebrate  series  it  is 
embodied  in  their  mental  activities  during  the  whole 
of  their  waking  lives,  —  when  they  dream  it  appears, 
as  in  our  dogs  and  barnyard  fowl,  to  be  present  as  it 
is  in  ourselves. " 

The  result  of  the  long  education  in  hatred  which 
man  brought  with  him  from  the  lower  life  to  his 
human  station  was  to  start  him  in  the  work  of  that 
higher  plane  with  that  motive  singularly  developed. 
The  gain  in  rational  power  led  him  to  perceive  more 
clearly  than  his  brutal  ancestors  how  nearly  all  that 
went  on  about  him  was  inimical  to  bis  desires.  His 
fellow-men  were  his  rivals,  the  beasts  he  sought  to 
capture  his  foes.  Soon  the  natural  forces,  so  far  as 
they  were  harmful,  were  rationally  conceived  as  due 
to  the  will  of  unseen  beings  which  contended  against 
him  ;  so  it  comes  about  that  the  primitive  man  is  a 
Philistine  with  his  hand  by  birthright  set  against  his 
neighbor  of  all  degrees,  animate  and  inanimate.  He 
must  slay  when  he  can  and  propitiate  when  he  can- 
not slay,  and  all  with  hatred  in  his  heart.  If  there 
had  been  no  corrective  of  this  evil  state  man  would 
have  been  but  one  more  beast  in  the  world,  keener 
witted  and  more  effective  than  any  of  his  ancestors, 
yet  but  another  beast  But  there  came  to  him  with 
the  impulses  of  the  brute  the  beginnings  of  another 
emotion,  the  sympathetic,  which  was  destined  greatly 


24  THE  NEIGHBOR 

to  modify  that  of  hatred,  and  in  tune  to  qualify  many 
of  the  instincts  which  were  sent  up  to  him  from  the 
lower  life.  Although  there  is  much  that  we  natur- 
ally cannot  explain  in  the  development  of  the  sym- 
pathies, a  certain  and  very  important  part  of  their 
history  is  clearly  to  be  discerned.  This,  briefly  stated, 
is  as  follows. 

In  the  lower  life  of  vertebrates  that  exhibit  any 
distinct  motives,  the  mother  shows,  and  sometimes 
both  parents  show,  a  love  of  offspring.  However  much 
we  may  doubt  the  efficiency  of  natural  selection  in 
shaping  the  development  of  animals,  it  is  hardly  to 
be  questioned  that  as  regards  this  instinct  of  paren- 
tal love  it  has  been  most  efficient ;  for  those  stocks 
which  were  by  that  emotion  led  to  take  the  greatest 
care  of  their  young  would  as  a  matter  of  course  have 
had  a  decidedly  better  chance  of  survival  than  others 
which  in  any  measure  lacked  that  motive.  It  is  prob- 
ably not  by  this  process  that  the  impulse  of  self-devo- 
tion of  parents  was  first  instituted,  but  the  intensifica- 
tion of  it  was  probably  thus  brought  about  hi  all  the 
series  which  attain  to  any  high  degree  of  intelligence. 
When  the  care  of  the  progeny  is  distributed  over  a 
host  of  eggs,  as  in  the  case  of  most  of  the  fishes,  the 
affection  is  of  an  inadequate  nature  and  can  hardly 
be  classed  with  the  sympathies.  When,  however,  in 
the  succession  which  leads  to  man,  the  young  are 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  HATRED     25 

not  only  born  alive  but  come  normally  but  one  at 
each  gestation,  the  attention  of  the  mother  is  fixed 
upon  the  child  with  the  result  that  it  becomes  the 
object  of  hi  tense  love.  We  see  something  of  the 
effect  of  this  limitation  in  our  domesticated  animals. 
A  cow  or  a  mare  is  greatly  distressed  if  parted  from 
its  calf  or  foal,  yet  a  sow,  though  belonging  to  a  spe- 
cies which  appears  to  be  endowed  with  much  more 
lively  sympathies,  cares  relatively  little  for  its  off- 
spring ;  it  does  not  note  the  loss  of  any  one  of  its 
large  brood,  and  exhibits  little  sorrow  if  all  of  them 
are  taken  away. 

The  extremely  imperfect  state  of  the  human  in- 
fant at  time  of  birth  demands  from  the  mother  an 
amount  of  care  and  devotion  which  serves  yet  fur- 
ther to  extend  the  love  of  it  which  other  conditions 
have  served  to  implant.  For  about  two  years  the 
child  engrosses  the  attention  of  the  parents  so  that 
the  habit  of  affection  becomes  so  well  affirmed  that 
it  is  likely  to  continue  till  death  ends  the  relation. 
Moreover  the  development  of  the  monogamic  habit 
has  served  to  bring  about  a  love  of  the  father  for 
the  child,  which  in  the  more  advanced  races  attains 
near  to  that  which  the  mother  feels.  Even  before 
monogamy  was  instituted,  as  soon,  indeed,  as  any 
kind  of  marriage  was  established,  this  love  of  the 
sire  for  his  progeny  —  the  peculiar  affection  of  man 


26  THE  NEIGHBOR 

—  was  often  strongly  developed ;  so  that  the  human 
family  appears  to  have  been  of  a  higher  type  than 
that  of  any  of  the  lower  animals  since  the  beginning 
of  man's  estate. 

Out  of  the  assemblage  of  conditions  which  have 
been  all  too  briefly  set  forth  came  the  first  stage  of 
the  sympathetic  development  which  has  lifted  our 
kind  morally  above  the  plane  of  the  brutes.  Begin- 
ning with  the  love  of  parents  for  their  children, 
sympathy  with  the  fellow-being  was  readily  ex- 
tended ;  first  to  the  remoter  kindred,  to  known 
kinsmen,  then  to  those  of  more  distant  yet  evident 
consanguinity ;  at  a  later  stage  still  further  to  all 
the  members  of  the  tribe  or  people  which  tradition 
declared  of  common  blood.  Although  this  exten- 
sion appears  to  have  been  brought  about  by  the 
spontaneous  development  of  the  sympathy  with  the 
fellow-being  which  arose  from  parental  relations, 
the  process  was  qualified  by  the  intellectual  motives. 
Curious  ideas  as  to  the  bond  of  common  blood,  as 
well  as  the  idea  of  protection  from  tribal  gods,  served 
to  give  rational  support  to  the  essentially  instinctive 
enlargement  of  the  motive.  To  the  stage  of  the 
sympathetic  relations  which  we  may  term  tribal, 
all  the  races  of  man  appear  readily  to  attain.  It  is 
doubtful,  indeed,  if  there  be  any  peoples  that  have 
not  won  thus  far  on  the  way  of  enlargement.  But 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  HATRED     27 

here  they  all  tend  to  halt ;  all  indeed  save  the  very 
few  elect  of  the  host  have  gone  no  further,  that 
point  being  evidently  the  furthest  to  which  they 
are  able  to  attain  in  their  normal  moral  develop- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE 

THE  fact  that  in  all  the  several  species  of  men 
the  tribal  stage  of  sympathetic  growth  is  readily 
attained,  that  hi  which  all  within  the  group  are  re- 
garded as  friends  while  all  without  are  enemies, 
and  that  very  few  peoples  go  further  in  the  enlarge- 
ment, is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  our  inquiry.  I 
shall  therefore  have  to  consider  the  meaning  of  the 
matter  with  some  care,  and  in  this  consideration  ask 
the  help  of  the  reader,  such  as  he  will  be  able  to 
give  from  his  own  experience.  All  that  he  will  be 
called  on  to  grant  are  such  facts  as  occur  hi  the 
common  life  of  men. 

First  let  us  note  what  comes  to  mind  when  we 
think  of  those  who  are  near  to  us.  It  is  evident  that 
at  the  beginning  of  our  thought  we  picture  them  hi 
our  imagination  as  essentially  like  ourselves  with 
certain  slight  variations  in  the  direction  of  what  we 
would  be  or  would  have  them  be.  The  most  essen- 
tial point  we  discern  here  is  that  the  other  person 
is  conceived  hi  terms  of  our  experience  with  our 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         29 

own  personality.  If  this  be  not  evident  to  the  reader 
let  him  suppose  that  in  some  manner  it  came  to  his 
knowledge  that  his  kinsman,  for  all  the  seeming 
likeness  to  himself,  for  all  the  reactions  which  ap- 
pear to  prove  the  identities  of  spiritual  movement, 
was  in  fact  utterly  different  in  motive,  so  that  while 
the  contacts  were  certain  always  to  afford  a  perfect 
accord,  the  essential  nature  of  the  creature  was  as 
different  from  his  own  as  it  would  be  if  the  other 
were  an  unconscious  automaton.  We  readily  per- 
ceive that  with  the  coming  of  this  knowledge  all 
trace  of  sympathy  would  disappear  and  an  instinc- 
tive dislike  would  take  its  place.  The  true  basis  for 
the  affection  which  commonly  exists  between  kin- 
dred is  not,  hi  modern  life  at  least,  based  on  any 
distinct  idea  of  common  blood,  but  on  the  actual  or 
supposed  likeness  hi  mental  quality.  We  expect  to 
find  in  them  qualities  nearer  to  our  own  than  we 
would  be  likely  to  discover  in  strangers. 

Passing  from  the  experience  we  have  with  those 
who  are  very  near  to  us  and  with  whom  our  sym- 
pathetic relations  are  normally  active,  let  us  note 
what  takes  place  when  we  enter  on  relations  with 
strangers.  The  steps  by  which  we  make  this  ap- 
proach to  the  unknown  fellow-man  are  so  familiar 
that  they  have  the  quality  of  the  commonplace  and 
as  such  do  not  exhibit  themselves  to  consciousness. 


30  THE  NEIGHBOR 

Yet  if  we  attentively  watch  we  find,  first  of  all,  that 
the  person  is  of  our  species.  The  process  by  which 
this  determination  is  made  is  really  quite  complex 
though  it  appears  to  be  perfectly  simple.  The  com- 
plexity can  only  be  judged  by  those  rare  instances 
in  which  we  may  have  trouble  in  finding  hi  an 
object  sufficient  evidence  to  show  whether  it  be  a 
man  or  no.  I  recall  an  experience  which  served  hi 
a  clear  way  to  show  me  the  manner  hi  which  the 
mind  works  when  it  seeks  to  determine  that  a  par- 
ticular object  is  or  is  not  an  individual  of  our  kind. 
I  was  walking  on  a  foggy  morning  across  the  open 
country  on  the  western  side  of  the  crater-lake 
known  as  Lago  di  Bolsena  hi  Tuscany ;  before  me 
I  saw  at  some  distance  an  unclassifiable  creature 
which  looked  like  a  cow  walking  on  its  hind  legs. 
The  first  impression  made  on  my  mind  was  one  of 
intense  curiosity  mingled  with  a  distinct  sense  of 
fear,  —  the  ancient  human  and  animal  dread  of  all 
living  things  that  transcend  experience.  It  was 
some  minutes  before  I  came  near  enough  to  the 
thing  to  find  that  it  was  a  man  clad  in  a  cow's 
hide,  the  skin  of  the  hind  legs  covering  his  lower 
limbs,  that  of  the  fore  legs  his  arms,  while  that  of 
the  beast's  head  served  him  as  a  cap.  The  instan- 
taneous change  hi  my  state  of  mind  when  the  hu- 
man nature  of  the  object  became  evident  was  to 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         31 

me  a  revelation  concerning  the  familiar  process  of 
recognizing  a  fellow  of  our  species.  The  most  inter- 
esting point  was  the  very  sudden  way  in  which  the 
sympathies  which  enter  into  human  intercourse 
came  into  activity  when  the  process  of  classification 
was  accomplished.  By  this  accident  I  was  brought 
to  see  that  to  our  contacts  with  others  of  our  kind 
we  instinctively  and  unconsciously  bring  a  great 
store  of  expectations  and  understandings  as  well  as 
of  sympathies  or  hatreds  which  serve  as  the  basis  of 
the  relations  to  be  established  with  them. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  have  had  similar  and 
almost  as  illustrative  experiences  as  that  above  de- 
scribed. Those  who  have  shared  in  military  cam- 
paigns may  have  fallen  on  the  common  chance  of 
finding  on  the  roadside  what  seems  to  be  the  dead 
body  of  a  man,  yet  on  close  examination  life  proves 
to  be  in  it.  Now  the  state  of  mind  with  which  we 
come  into  contact  with  the  dead  differs  widely  from 
that  we  bring  to  our  relations  with  the  living,  how- 
ever near  death  they  may  be.  In  such  experiences 
as  these  we  have  a  chance  to  see  something  of  the 
mental  conditions  of  our  intercourse  with  the  neigh- 
bor. In  yet  other  shape  the  matter  is  presented  by 
our  effort  to  enter  into  relations  with  persons  who 
hi  one  way  or  another  fail  to  give  us  tokens  of  like- 
ness which  we  instinctively  demand  from  those 


32  THE  NEIGHBOR 

we  assume  to  be  like  ourselves.  Thus  all  sorely 
wounded  or  very  ill  people  are  repugnant  to  persons 
of  undisciplined  sympathies ;  so,  too,  are  the  drunken 
or  insane.  Even  the  much  deformed  afford  at  the 
moment  of  contact  an  impression  which  is  sharply 
contrasted  with  that  we  receive  from  normal  human 
beings.  Just  here  let  me  note,  what  I  shall  further 
consider  below,  that  the  revolt  we  feel  at  the  sight 
of  a  man  who  is  grievously  wounded,  or  has  any 
sore  affliction  which  makes  him  appear  abnormal, 
passes  away  as  soon  as  we  lay  a  helpful  hand  on  his 
body.  Something  of  this  dissipation  of  the  instinc- 
tive prejudice  to  the  apparently  inhuman  nature  of 
the  neighbor  will  take  place  when  a  person  of  well- 
trained  sympathies  and  the  imagination  that  makes 
them  serviceable,  vigorously  goes  forth  to  the  suf- 
ferer by  an  exercise  of  the  will ;  but  the  effect  is 
feeble  as  compared  with  that  which  comes  from  the 
touch  of  hand,  that  blessed  touch  which  awakens  the 
sense  of  kinship  as  nothing  else  does. 

The  effect  which  we  experience  when  with  our 
hands  we  seek  to  help  a  sufferer  is  for  our  purpose 
so  important  that  I  must  again  refer  to  my  personal 
experience  for  illustration.  By  nature  I  am  led  to 
flee  from  the  sight  of  a  seriously  wounded  man  or 
any  other  who  appears  unnatural.  The  impulse  is 
evidently  primitive,  for  it  endures  still  and  is  as  hi- 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         33 

tense  as  it  was  in  my  childhood,  when  it  led  me 
more  than  once  to  well- remembered  shame.  I  recall 
when  I  was  about  twelve  years  old  that  a  surgeon 
in  a  case  of  immediate  need  so  insisted  that  I  should 
help  him  in  a  gruesome  case  that  I  dared  not  run 
away.  The  fear  that  I  had  of  approaching  the  suf- 
ferer is  yet  distinct,  although  it  was  fifty  years  ago ; 
so,  too,  the  wonder  that  came  over  me  when  I  found 
that  as  soon  as  I  touched  him  he  became  dear  to  me. 
Since  then  the  good  and  evil  chances  of  life  have 
brought  me  beside  very  many  wounded  people,  al- 
ways to  experience  the  same  revolt  at  the  sight  of 
them  and  the  same  sense  of  the  brother  at  the  touch 
of  hand.  I  have  found  that  many  of  my  friends 
have  had  a  like  experience.  The  meaning  of  it  seems 
to  be  as  follows.  In  the  stages  of  the  life  we  inherit 
which  were  passed  in  the  numerous  species,  proba- 
bly several  hundred,  between  the  beginning  of  the 
quadrumanous  mammals  and  the  human  grade,  the 
creatures  who  were  shaping  our  instincts  were  ac- 
customed to  gain  the  most  of  their  information  by 
the  sense  of  touch.  At  the  very  beginning  of  the 
Quadrumana,  and  as  their  most  characteristic  fea- 
ture, we  find  that  the  ancient  narrow-rending  claw, 
characteristic  of  the  other  mammals,  changes  to  the 
thin  broad  finger-nail,  the  object  of  the  change  evi- 
dently being  to  afford  support  and  protection  for  the 


34  THE  NEIGHBOR 

pads  of  the  finger  tips,  which  serve  as  instruments 
of  touch.  Through  all  the  ape-like  species,  the  col- 
lateral kindred  of  man  and  sharers  with  him  in  the 
larger  part  of  his  education,  we  note  that  the  eyes 
and  ears  afford  information  enough  to  arouse  fear 
or  its  companion  curiosity,  but  in  general  not 
enough  to  move  the  sympathies.  Their  affections 
are  excited  by  caresses ;  they  evidently  found  their 
way  to  human-like  movements  of  the  spirit  by  the 
touch  of  the  hand. 

Although  in  that  very  brief  part  of  our  life  which 
we  reckon  as  human  many  of  our  motives  have  been 
in  some  measure  changed,  the  primal  impulses,  as 
regards  the  conditions  of  their  excitation,  have  al- 
tered hi  no  important  way.  The  currents  of  our 
fears,  loves,  hatreds,  and  other  streams  of  instinct 
flow  in  the  ancient  deeply  carved  channels  which  the 
ages  of  life  of  our  prehuman  ancestors  have  worn. 
So  it  is  that  while  in  the  use  of  sight  we  have  won 
as  men  wide  fields  for  the  rational  work,  the  older 
instincts  have  been  little  changed  by  the  knowledge 
we  have  thus  gained.  The  human  mother's  love  for 
the  babe  is,  like  that  of  the  ape,  mainly  developed  by 
fondling  it  and  not  by  the  mere  sight  of  its  body.  It 
is  true  that  in  a  secondary  way  sight  helps  us  to 
form  an  image  of  suff ering  which  may  excite  the 
sympathies,  but  this  is  a  roundabout  and  imperfect 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         35 

process.  We  may  look  upon  a  host  of  wounded  on  a 
battlefield  with  horror,  but  with  little  instinctive 
sense  of  their  woe,  while  we  feel  for  the  one  in  hand 
as  for  ourselves. 

While  sight  alone  does  not  to  any  considerable 
extent  excite  sympathy,  at  least  in  a  direct  way, 
hearing  has  through  our  inheritances  considerable 
value  in  this  regard.  In  all  the  vertebrate  series 
from  the  fishes  to  man  the  creatures  which  have 
shaped  our  spirit  have  called  to  one  another  to  tell 
of  their  joy  and  pain,  to  keep  in  touch,  to  claim  suc- 
cor, or  to  give  warning  of  danger  if  it  were  only  by 
the  cry  of  death.  We  may  assume  that  while  the 
mere  sight  of  suffering  is  not  of  much  moving  in- 
fluence on  other  than  those  whose  sympathies  are 
highly  developed  and  well  linked  with  the  reason, 
the  wails  of  suffering  people  are  moving  to  all  men. 
There  is  little  doubt  that  the  movement  of  the  spirit, 
if  in  our  kind,  is  of  essentially  the  same  nature  as  it 
is  in  the  lower  Mammalia,  where  the  cries  of  the 
species  are  most  exciting  to  all  the  members  of  the 
kind.  With  the  exception  of  the  solitary  predaceous 
forms  and  those  quite  incapable  of  defense,  the  wail 
of  the  afflicted  normally  awakens  the  sympathies  of 
the  kindred. 

The  foregoing  considerations  help  us  to  see  some 
of  the  circumstances  which  determine  our  contact 


36  THE  NEIGHBOR 

with  the  fellow-man.  It  is  evident  that  the  condi- 
tions of  human  contact  are  in  certain  ways  different 
from  those  which  exist  hi  the  lower  animals.  We 
make  the  most  of  the  judgment  which  begins  inter- 
course with  the  stranger  by  means  of  the  eyes, 
though  for  the  reasons  given  above  sight  does  not 
tend  to  arouse  the  sympathies.  Next  we  trust  to  the 
sounds  of  the  voice,  but  that  instrument,  originally 
expressive  of  the  sympathies,  has  come  to  be  hi  its 
ordinary  use  a  mere  vehicle  for  the  rational  powers. 
"We  do  not,  for  good  and  ancient  reasons,  come  into 
that  bodily  contact  with  the  others  of  our  kind  such 
as  hi  the  lower  animals  affords  the  quickest  means 
of  bringing  about  the  sense  of  fellowship.  The  re- 
sult is  that  th^e  individual  man,  inevitably  a  solitary 
being  because  of  his  individuality,  is  by  his  modes  of 
intercourse  far  more  cut  off  from  the  fellows  of  his 
species  in  all  that  relates  to  the  sympathies  than  any 
other  creature  of  high  estate.  He  has  formed  a  set 
of  habits  and  customs  which  brings  his  first  con- 
tacts with  his  neighbors  into  a  rational  field  from 
which  the  ancient  motives  of  affection  are  to  a  great 
extent  excluded. 

The  difficulty  of  the  situation  of  men  as  regards 
contact  with  the  others  of  their  species  is  still  further 
enhanced  by  speech  and  clothing.  It  is  a  fact,  one 
that  the  reader  has  most  likely  had  occasion  to 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         37 

note,  that  the  barrier  of  language  puts  a  curious  limi- 
tation on  the  sympathies.  The  fact  that  we  accost  a 
man  in  our  mother  tongue  and  are  not  understood, 
at  once  checks  whatever  share  of  friendly  emotion 
began  to  go  forth  to  him  when  we  sought  his  ac- 
quaintance. Even  when  the  difference  in  speech  is 
no  more  than  dialectic,  there  is  a  sense  of  shock  of 
the  same  order  as  that  we  receive  when  the  language 
is  without  meaning  to  us.  The  barrier  is  less  consid- 
erable if  the  speech-forms  have  been  endeared  to  us 
by  literature  as  in  the  case  of  the  Lowland  Scotch, 
or  when  it  is  amusing,  as  that  of  the  Somersetshire 
man,  the  Cockney,  or  the  Irish.  In  such  cases  the 
interest  comes  in  a  way  to  favor  sympathy,  yet  the 
sense  of  barrier  remains  to  show  that  we  instinctively 
demand  that  the  stranger  be  like  ourselves. 

There  is  yet  another  demand  which  we  spon- 
taneously and  universally  make  of  the  stranger; 
this  is  that  the  mental  steps  by  which  he  approaches 
us  shall  be  essentially  like  those  we  take  in  ap- 
proaching him.  This  process  of  mutual  introduc- 
tion by  certain  gradations  of  action  may  be  ob- 
served in  the  higher  brutes  as  well  as  in  man, 
being  particularly  conspicuous  in  well-bred  dogs, 
but  noticeable  in  all  the  mammalian  groups.  There 
are,  indeed,  certain  forms  which  among  mammals 
apparently  have  to  be  observed  in  order  to  pave  the 


38  THE  NEIGHBOR 

way  to  friendly  intercourse,  and  the  habit  of  using 
them  seems  to  be  acquired.  Thus  while  puppies  will 
boisterously  approach  one  another  and  at  once  pro- 
ceed to  romp,  adult  dogs  begin  with  certain  deliber- 
ate inquiries  which  seem  to  have  the  value  of  cus- 
toms. It  is  only  after  a  time  then  that  they  become 
evidently  friendly.  Moreover,  there  appears  often, 
in  the  canine  species  at  least,  a  distinct  sense  of  the 
station  of  their  fellows.  An  adult  dog  whose  con- 
duct has  become  ordered  by  association  with  the 
cultivated  members  of  his  kind  will  not  assail  a 
puppy,  however  he  may  be  irritated  by  his  famil- 
iarities. In  several  instances,  I  have  observed  that, 
while  in  their  prune,  dogs  will  not  resent  the  inva- 
sions of  their  rights  by  the  aged  of  their  kind  as 
they  would  certainly  do  if  the  trespass  were  commit- 
ted by  one  of  fighting  age.  Thus  an  old  dog  may 
without  molestation  range  the  premises  guarded  by 
other  dogs,  taking  food  where  he  can  find  it,  whereas 
if  he  were  of  fighting  age  he  would  have  to  battle 
continuously.  The  facts  point  to  the  conclusion  that 
these  instinctively  founded  conditions  of  approach 
to  the  fellows  of  the  species  long  antedate  the 
coming  of  man,  and  that  his  formula  was  not  al- 
together shaped  in  the  human  plane,  though  it  has 
been  made  very  much  more  extensive  and  compli- 
cated than  in  any  of  the  lower  species. 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         39 

Watching  the  conditions  of  introduction  of  one 
man  to  another,  we  quickly  see  that  the  process  is 
not  the  simple  thing  that  it  seems  to  be ;  it  is,  how- 
ever, difficult  to  perceive  its  full  complexity.  In  all 
first  contacts  there  is  some  element  of  suspicion  of 
the  unknown  being.  It  is  one  of  the  good  results 
of  the  civilized  order  to  minimize  this  doubt  as  to  the 
other  man,  and  in  the  best  conditions  of  society  it 
remains  a  mere  shadow  which  it  is  hard  to  discern. 
But  in  the  early  brutal  state  of  our  series,  as  in  the 
plane  of  the  brutes,  the  stranger  was  fitly  the  object 
of  suspicion ;  for  the  reasonable,  the  only  safe  pre- 
sumption was  that  he  was  an  enemy.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  ascertain  his  state  of  mind  before  disarming. 
In  these  primitive  conditions  the  points  to  be  deter- 
mined were  simple ;  in  effect,  no  more  was  needed 
save  to  know  whether  the  stranger  was  friendly  or 
hostile.  With  the  development  of  valued  traditions 
the  question  of  whether  he  worshiped  the  same 
gods  and  had  the  same  rules  of  life  became  as  im- 
portant as  his  momentary  state  of  mind.  In  other 
words,  the  first  effect  of  the  human  quality  is  to 
introduce  a  wide  range  of  more  or  less  rational  con- 
siderations into  the  equation  which  determines  the 
relations  with  the  neighbor.  These  limitations  be- 
come habitual,  so  that  the  hatreds  due  to  differences 
in  religion,  etc.,  become  effectively  as  instinctive  as 


40  THE  NEIGHBOR 

those  due  to  such  diversities  of  odor  as  exist  in  the 
case  of  hounds  and  foxes. 

The  foregoing  view  of  the  wide  field  of  human 
relations  —  though  but  a  glance  at  a  vast  tangle  of 
facts  —  will  make  it  easier  to  understand  how  it 
has  come  about  that,  in  all  the  manifold  varieties 
of  man,  the  extension  of  sympathetic  relations,  at 
first  and  for  a  certain  distance  very  easily  attained, 
quickly  reaches  a  point  beyond  which  all  the  culture 
of  the  enlightened  ages  accomplishes  but  a  very  slow 
advance.  The  point  first  to  be  noted  is  that  we  seek 
hi  the  neighbor  ourselves ;  whether  we  discern  this 
identity  in  the  fellow-man,  in  petted  animals,  in 
dolls,  or  idols,  or  in  unseen  gods,  it  does  not  matter. 
It  is  the  likeness  to  ourselves  that  awakens  sym- 
pathy and  affords  the  basis  of  intercourse.  With 
the  creatures  below  the  human  plane  the  tests  of 
identity  were  few  hi  number;  general  features  of 
shape,  odor,  even  sounds  or  expressive  attitudes 
and  grimaces,  served  as  criteria  for  judgment  as  to 
essential  likeness  or  diversity.  With  man  comes  in 
a  host  of  other  more  rational  bases  of  criticism,  es- 
pecially those  dependent  on  speech,  dress,  and  beliefs 
that  guide  conduct.  As  these  criteria  of  kinship 
increase  in  number  and  in  value  as  instincts,  the 
point  is  quickly  attained  where  the  evident  diver- 
sities found  in  the  stranger  make  it  commonly  im- 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         41 

possible  to  regard  him  as  near  enough  to  ourselves 
to  be  sympathized  with.  Being  a  competitor  and 
unprotected  by  friendliness,  he  is  naturally  an  object 
of  dislike ;  indeed,  of  that  quick  and  effective  hatred 
which  has  been  the  condition  of  success  in  the  mili- 
tant species  through  all  the  long  schooling  man  has 
had  in  the  life  of  the  brutes  and  of  brutal  men. 

In  a  general  way,  the  stage  where  —  with  the  in- 
creasing complexity  of  human  nature  and  what  it 
required  of  the  fellow- man  —  the  sympathies  ceased 
to  prevail  over  the  hatreds,  affords  the  bounds  of  the 
ethnic  group.  In  most  cases,  all  within  the  bounds 
are  held  to  be  of  common  blood.  In  all  instances 
they  worship  the  same  gods,  have  thereby  like  rules 
of  conduct,  and  speak  the  same  language.  Under 
these  conditions  the  ways  of  sympathy  are  kept 
open.  Within  the  tribal  pale  the  tendency  is  to  knit 
firmer  the  bonds  between  man  and  man.  If  the 
people  be  able  they  are  certain  to  accumulate  tra- 
ditions. These  take  shape  in  literature,  or  in  for- 
mulas of  religion  or  other  activities  which  may  be- 
come the  moral  and  intellectual  life-blood  of  the 
folk,  maintaining  their  life  in  its  pristine  quality,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  Jews  through  ages  of  trial,  and 
making  their  extirpation  almost  impossible.  No  one 
can  look  upon  the  characteristic  tribal  or  ethnic 
group  without  feeling  that  in  it  we  have  the  most 


42  THE  NEIGHBOR 

characteristic  and  in  many  ways  the  noblest  of  all 
the  accomplished  works  of  man.  Our  states  and  civ- 
ilizations may  in  time  attain  to  greater  splendor,  but 
they  are  as  yet  unorganized  and  ephemeral  things 
compared  with  those  primitive  constructions. 

As  soon  as  an  ethnic  society  is  organized  it  takes 
on  many  of  the  characteristics  of  the  primitive  ani- 
mal individual,  it  lives  for  itself  alone.  Other  groups 
of  like  nature  are  its  enemies  to  whom  no  faith  of 
any  kind  is  owed.  To  plunder  them  is  not  theft,  to 
slay  those  who  are  of  them  is  not  murder,  they  are 
outside  the  pale  of  all  obligations  whatever.  The 
more  intense  the  common  life  of  the  ethnic  group, 
the  more  faithful  its  members  to  one  another  and 
the  more  faithless  they  are  apt  to  be  towards  all 
who  are  not  of  their  society.  Thus  among  the  an- 
cient Jews,  where  the  concepts  of  faith  within  the 
tribe  were  of  the  highest  attained  by  man,  there  was, 
until  a  late  stage  of  development,  no  idea  of  duty  to 
the  alien  because  he  was  a  man.  As  such,  he  pos- 
sessed no  rights  whatever. 

It  is  evident  that  the  greatest  obstacle  which  has 
retarded  the  advance  of  all  races  is  the  inevitable 
limitation  of  the  sympathies  which  the  ethnic  pale 
imposes.  Thus  among  the  Jews,  where  the  intellec- 
tual and  moral  impulses  attained  a  higher  and  more 
enduring  development  than  among  any  other  peo- 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         43 

pie,  there  is  no  trace  of  a  sense  of  duty  to  the  extra- 
tribal  neighbor  until  the  prophet  Jonah,  and  no  dis- 
tinct enunciation  of  the  doctrine  that  all  men  are 
brothers  until  it  came  from  Christ 

Although  the  ethnic  motive  is  most  distinctly 
manifested  hi  the  primitive  tribe,  where  common 
blood,  religion,  language,  and  customs  exist,  and  has 
accomplished  its  most  characteristic  work  hi  those 
compact  associations,  it  is  to  be  observed  at  large  hi 
less  distinct  forms  among  all  human  societies.  It 
may  take  the  form  of  social  rank,  of  caste,  of  reli- 
gious distinctions ;  it  is,  in  fact,  an  isolating  motive 
native  to  man  which  is  continually  seeking  expres- 
sion. Throughout  all  the  lands  I  have  traversed  on 
foot,  including  the  greater  part  of  Europe,  I  have 
found  evidences  of  it  in  the  states  of  mind  of  peo- 
ples even  of  the  same  stock  who  are  parted  from 
one  another  by  dialects,  by  religion,  or  even  by  slight 
geographic  barriers.  Thus  in  German-speaking  Swit- 
zerland, certain  Roman  Catholic  and  Protestant  par- 
ishes hold  sympathetically  aloof;  and  in  Italy  I  often 
found  the  peoples  of  neighboring  valleys,  who  were 
parted  by  nothing  more  significant  than  a  moun- 
tain barrier,  each  regarding  the  other  with  a  curious 
suspicion  and  hatred.  On  the  other  hand,  the  most 
significant  peculiarity  of  the  American  people,  that 
which  hi  my  opinion  seta  them  more  apart  from  the 


44  THE  NEIGHBOR 

rest  of  the  world  than  any  other,  is  the  relative 
absence  of  the  tribe-forming  motive  among  them. 
While  in  Europe  there  is  a  general  tendency  to 
disbelieve  in  all  men,  even  of  the  same  race,  who  are 
not  well-known,  —  a  humor  which  is  least,  but  still 
discernible,  hi  Great  Britain,  and  increases  to  the 
lands  about  the  Mediterranean,  —  hi  the  United 
States  there  is  hardly  more  than  a  trace  of  this 
humor,  and  that  appears  to  be  steadily  lessening. 
In  general,  the  American  is  characterized  by  an  al- 
most unreasonable  belief  hi  the  likeness  to  himself 
of  the  neighbor,  however  far  parted  by  race,  speech, 
or  creed.  This  is  so  strong  that  even  the  Civil  War 
did  not  shake  it ;  it  served  rather  to  affirm  the  mu- 
tual confidence.  Yet,  as  I  shall  note  hereafter,  there 
are  certain  places  in  which  the  impulse  distinctly 
appears,  in  a  manner  to  show  that  no  people  have 
escaped  this  ancient  tribe-making  motive. 

Looking  at  all  the  instances  in  which  the  tribal 
motive  has  come  nearest  to  extinction,  we  find  them 
first,  as  above  remarked,  hi  the  American  Union, 
and  next,  curiously  enough,  among  the  diverse  peo- 
ples who  have  been  converted  to  the  Mahometan 
religion.  In  the  American  instance  the  result  may 
be  attributable  to  a  widespread  common  education, 
much  travel,  and  to  the  traditions  of  democracy,  all 
combined  with  an  informal  Christianity,  which  de- 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         46 

spite  its  great  variety  of  tenets  holds  fairly  well  to 
the  leading  doctrine  of  Christ,  that  of  the  brother- 
hood of  man.  It  is  not  easy  to  conjecture  how  Ma- 
hometanism  has  served  to  break  down  the  ethnic 
barriers  among  the  peoples  which  have  become  sub- 
jected to  it.  It  is  evident  that  the  folk  who  have 
adopted  that  belief  are,  as  a  whole,  of  a  temper  and 
in  a  state  inclining  them  to  be  extremely  tribal ;  yet 
some  quality  of  their  faith  brings  them  to  recog- 
nize the  man  of  the  other  tribe  who  holds  to  it  as 
a  brother  far  more  effectively  than  Christianity  has 
ever  done,  though  in  the  purpose  of  its  founder  this 
was  the  main  feature  of  his  creed.  Speaking  under 
correction,  for  I  know  nothing  of  Islam  from  near 
view,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  end  is  most  likely  at- 
tained by  the  intensity  of  the  monotheism  of  that 
faith.  Given  the  idea  of  one  god  and  his  one  su- 
preme prophet  preaching  the  fellowship  of  man,  there 
is  a  convincing  value  in  the  belief  which  seems  to  be 
strong  enough  to  prevail  over  the  walls  of  the  tribe 
high  and  strong  as  they  may  be.  The  like  identify- 
ing power  should  exist  in  Judaism,  for  all  within  the 
faith  are  brethren,  though  their  god  is  the  god  solely 
of  their  own  ethnic  group.  Yet  in  spirit  they  are  as 
opposed  to  proselyting  as  the  Mahometans  are  in 
favor  of  it,  so  they  lost  their  chance  of  mastering  the 
world  which  their  kindred  in  race  and  faith  so  nearly 
attained. 


46  THE  NEIGHBOR 

As  for  the  failure  of  Christianity  to  break  down 
ethnic  barriers,  though  that  was  the  foremost  object 
of  its  founder,  the  reasons  seem  complex,  perhaps 
not  all  yet  plain  to  us.  It  seems  to  me  evident  that 
the  foremost  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  change 
of  motives  which  came  through  the  diversion  of  the 
Church  from  the  purposes  of  its  founder,  whereby  it 
was  converted  into  what  is  essentially  a  polytheism, 
and  in  the  centering  of  the  attention  on  personal 
salvation.  All  these  unhappy  consequences  appear 
to  have  been  primarily  due  to  the  intermingling  of 
mystical  Greek  philosophy  with  the  clear  and  sim- 
ple teachings  of  Jesus.  Be  the  cause  what  it  may, 
the  lamentable  fact  is  that  the  religion  which  more 
than  all  others  should  have  been  effective  in  lessen- 
ing the  evils  of  the  tribal  spirit  has  been  most  im- 
potent in  that  work.  So  far  from  having  lessened 
the  evils  due  to  the  tribal  motive,  it,  until  modern 
times,  served  to  aggravate  them.  Even  in  these 
days  when  the  general  advance  of  civilization  has 
done  much  to  widen  sympathies,  we  find  the  advance 
in  no  considerable  measure  furthered  by  the  religion 
which,  more  than  all  others,  should  have  led  in  the 
on-going. 

While  we  have  to  condemn  the  tribal  spirit  as  hi 
high  measure  harmful  to  the  larger  interests  of  man, 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         47 

we  should  not  overlook  the  fact  that  in  all  cases  it 
has  afforded  the  beginnings  of  commonwealths.  The 
only  possible  way  of  forming  a  social  unit  larger 
than  the  immediate  family  was  by  an  enlargement 
of  the  idea  of  kinship  on  which  the  family  rests. 
The  only  way  in  which  the  nascent  tribe  could  have 
gained  motives  which  would  have  made  it  strong 
enough  to  resist  the  impact  of  the  disintegrating 
forces  of  the  savagery  in  which  it  originated,  was  by 
means  of  all  the  bonds  of  common  faith  and  form 
that  could  be  given  to  it.  The  dislike  of  unrelated 
men  which  remained  after  the  tribe  was  knit  together 
was  no  new  evil,  but  the  remnant  of  the  hatred  with 
which  the  primitive  men  regarded  their  fellows.  In 
its  fit  time  the  tribe  was  an  oasis  in  the  desert  of  un- 
sympathetic greed  that  encompassed  the  lonely  pio- 
neers of  the  work  of  men.  It  was  not  until  by  means 
of  the  tribal  organization  men  were  lifted  to  the  con- 
cepts of  order,  mutual  sacrifice,  and  action  continu- 
ing from  generation  to  generation  that  it  was  possi- 
ble to  go  further  in  the  process  of  development.  The 
doctrine  of  Christ  would  have  been  out  of  place  in 
the  time  when  the  tribal  organization  was  as  inco- 
herent and  ill-affirmed  as  is  our  existing  system  of 
the  commonwealth.  It  was  not  until  the  ethnic  unit 
had  shown  how  good  it  was  for  brethren  to  dwell 
together  in  unity  that  the  time  came  for  the  larger 


48  THE  NEIGHBOR 

associations  based  on  the  recognition  of  the  real  kin- 
ship of  man. 

There  is  yet  another  limitation  which  must  be 
made  in  the  criticism  and  condemnation  of  the  ethnic 
motive,  which  it  is  the  fashion  of  our  time  to  make. 
In  the  highly  organized  tribes  we  find,  as  in  those 
of  Israel,  an  organic  intensity  and  a  moral  control 
of  its  elements  such  as  has  never  been  won  and  is 
probably  not  winnable  in  any  wider  commonwealth 
which  has  been  established.  It  is  evident  that  when 
the  concepts  of  common  blood  and  faith  are  put 
aside  the  bond  that  unites  men  is  thereby  enfeebled. 
Those  of  us  who  believe  in  the  commonwealth  trust 
to  certain  enlargements  of  the  sympathies,  and  of 
knowledge  that  will  support  them,  to  give  us  safety. 
But  we  draw  upon  our  confidence  in  the  nature  of 
man  rather  than  on  history  for  our  justification. 
Thus,  while  the  tribal  motive  is  a  distinct  barrier  to 
the  higher  processes  of  civilization,  it  not  only  has 
made  that  stage  of  development  possible  but  it  still 
remains  the  most  complete  success  that  man  has  yet 
attained  in  the  field  of  social  development. 

It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  formal  concept 
of  the  tribal  state,  which  is  that  those  of  com- 
mon blood  alone  are  fit  for  the  common  work  of  a 
society,  still  remains  as  a  postulate  that  cannot 
lightly  be  dismissed.  We  hope  to  see  a  common- 


ON  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  TRIBE         49 

wealth  so  organized  that  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  men  may  find  shelter  under  a  roof  as  wide  as 
the  sky.  I,  for  one,  have  enduring  confidence  in  the 
possibility  of  such  an  order,  yet  I  have  to  confess 
that  the  judgment  is  based  on  a  reckoning  of  human 
quality,  and  finds  as  yet  insufficient  support  hi  expe- 
rience. It  is  to  be  wrought  out  from  the  existing 
basis,  of  ethnic  motives  and  will  have  to  be  shaped 
by  the  enlargement  of  the  accomplishments  of  that 
form  of  human  endeavors.  The  process  by  which 
the  larger  commonwealth  of  man  is  being  evolved 
from  the  lesser  is  beset  by  difficulties.  As  in  evolu- 
tion of  a  new  organic  adjustment,  the  species  which 
afford  the  steps  for  the  transition  are  temporary  and 
endure  but  briefly,  thus  seeming  to  be  failures,  so  hi 
this  social  progress  the  steps  are  tentative  and  often 
apparently  unsuccessful,  but  the  naturalist  trusts 
them  to  lead  to  a  great  accomplishment. 

We  are  now  in  danger  of  underestimating  the  im- 
portance of  those  differences  between  groups  of  men 
on  which  the  tribal  system  rested.  We  are  assuming 
that  in  a  state  of  the  modern  type  we  may  effect  the 
same  close  relation  between  people  of  diverse  stocks 
that  is  brought  about  in  a  true  ethnic  group.  In 
other  words,  we  are  endeavoring  to  build  states  which 
shall  be  no  more  than  enlarged  tribes,  and  we  seek 
to  accomplish  this  suppression  of  the  race  or  ethnic 


50  THE  NEIGHBOR 

motive  in  a  violent  manner,  though  with  a  sem- 
blance of  law.  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  the  fallacy 
of  this  method,  and  something  of  its  unhappy  conse- 
quences, hi  considering  the  problem  of  the  relations 
between  the  Negroes  and  Indians  and  the  whites  of 
North  America.  For  our  present  purpose  it  is  enough 
to  note  that  there  is  danger  hi  overlooking  the  obdu- 
racy of  the  ethnic  motive  which  is  very  deeply  im- 
planted hi  man,  being  one  of  the  most  important 
instincts  which  came  to  him  from  the  lower  life. 
The  worst  failures  in  organizing  modern  states  have 
arisen  from  the  belief  that  the  tribal  motives  of  iso- 
lation were  due  to  mere  obstinacy,  that  they  could 
be  easily  crushed  out,  and  that  the  people  who  were 
moved  by  them  might  straightway  be  provided  with 
a  brand-new  array  of  motives  which  had  been  evolved 
by  their  masters.  It  would  be  quite  as  reasonable 
and  merciful  to  seek  a  change  hi  the  color  of  men's 
hides  by  a  process  of  flaying  with  a  view  to  implant- 
ing a  new  skin. 


CHAPTER  V 
NATURE  AND  VALUE  OF  ETHNIC  MOTIVES 

THE  question  now  before  us  is  to  determine  the  na- 
ture and  value  of  those  prejudices  and  prepossessions 
which  affect  the  relations  of  diverse  peoples  with  one 
another.  It  requires  but  a  glance  at  the  existing 
conditions  of  men  to  show  us  that  this  matter  is  of 
great  importance.  In  fact,  as  reasonable  men,  know- 
ing as  we  do  the  efficiency  of  scientific  methods  in 
affording  a  basis  for  duty  in  the  conduct  of  life,  we 
cannot  justly  go  further  with  our  tasks  of  govern- 
ment without  trying  to  understand  what  it  means 
that  the  tribes  and  races  we  are  endeavoring  to 
bring  together  and  merge  hi  harmonious  common- 
wealths fail  to  come  into  accord.  I  shall,  therefore,, 
seek  in  the  manner  of  the  naturalist  to  find  what 
the  facts  are,  and  then  to  see  what  guidance  may 
be  had  from  them.  The  first  step  will  be  to  note 
many  of  the  past  and  present  features  of  the  rela- 
tions between  races  and  tribes  which  have  been 
forced  to  dwell  together  and  in  some  measure  to 
share  the  life  of  a  commonwealth ;  then  to  examine 


52  THE  NEIGHBOR 

into  the  meaning  of  the  tribal  system  so  far  as  it 
relates  to  association  of  such  groups  of  men  in  larger 
societies ;  and  finally  to  consider  in  the  light  of  our 
knowledge  what  should  be  the  organization  of  a 
state  based  on  an  understanding  of  the  innate  social 
motives  of  its  various  elements. 

The  first  point  to  note  is  that  the  natural,  indeed, 
the  inevitable,  social  order  is  that  of  the  tribe,  the 
enlarged  family,  and  that  in  this  state  of  organiza- 
tion the  greater  part  of  the  life  of  man  has  been 
passed.  It  may  now  be  assumed  as  certain  that  men 
have  been  hi  existence  for  some  hundred  thousand 
years.  We  have  no  clear  evidence  as  to  the  condi- 
tions of  their  association  for  more  than  six  or  eight 
thousand  years,  but  the  generality  of  the  tribal  sys- 
tem indicates  that  they  were  at  a  very  early  stage 
in  their  advance  divided  into  separate  groups,  each 
with  all  of  its  members  hi  friendly  relations  with 
one  another,  while  the  individual  groups  were  hi  a 
state  of  isolation  and  more  or  less  hostile  to  every 
other.  Thus  we  may  assume  that  after  some  kind 
of  family  relation  that  of  the  tribe  is  the  oldest 
social  feature  of  mankind.  It  evidently  fits  all  the 
diverse  species  of  our  genus  and  has  been  firmly 
implanted  by  experience.  Moreover,  the  tribal  habit 
of  man  is  not  an  invention  made  by  him.  It  evi- 
dently was  inherited  from  his  ancestors  of  the  lower 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  53 

life,  for  among  all  the  Quadrumana  clearly  to  be 
reckoned  his  collateral  but  near  organic  and  psychic 
kinsmen,  this  social  habit  prevails.  The  creatures 
usually  dwell  in  groups  which  are  evidently  held 
together  by  a  sympathetic  bond,  and  are  hi  more 
or  less  hostile  relation  to  other  groups  of  the  same 
or  diverse  species,  so  that  we  may  regard  the  tribal 
motive  as  even  more  affirmed  than  it  could  have 
been  by  human  experience. 

The  next  point  to  note  is  that  the  development  of 
the  militant  spirit  and  the  superior  power  of  certain 
tribes  leads  to  conquests  of  other  like  units.  So  far 
as  we  can  judge  by  what  we  see  in  existing  low- 
grade  peoples  the  usual  fate  of  the  conquered  was 
to  be  exterminated.  At  a  later  stage  some  part  of 
the  defeated  tribes,  if  not  of  a  stock  so  remote  as 
to  arouse  race  prejudices  by  great  differences  in 
appearance,  were  adopted  by  the  conquerors.  Yet 
later  came  the  institution  of  slavery,  when  the  cap- 
tives were  regarded  as  domesticated  animals  with 
no  human  rights.  Still  further  on,  when  the  idea  of 
domination  became  more  developed,  conquered  tribes 
were  allowed  to  exist  as  subjugated  peoples  for  the 
profit  of  their  masters.  At  this  stage  the  Roman 
and  medisBval  type  of  state  made  up  of  one  master- 
ing folk  and  a  number  of  subjugated  tribes  or  states 
took  definite  shape.  Such  associations  had  existed 


54  THE  NEIGHBOR 

from  the  dawn  of  history  and  doubtless  in  unrecorded 
tune,  but  the  deliberate  effort  to  organize  something 
like  commonwealths  on  that  basis  is  not  evident 
before  the  beginning  of  the  Roman  conquests. 

The  third  and  last  stage  in  political  development 
is  that  in  which  we  are  now  engaged,  in  which  the 
ideal  is  to  unite  diverse  peoples,  each  retaining  more 
or  less  of  their  original  ethnic  motives,  in  one  com- 
monwealth, giving  to  them  all  a  like  chance  in  the 
common  life,  allowing  none  of  the  inherited  differ- 
ences of  quality  or  tradition  to  limit  the  rights  and 
opportunities  of  any  of  the  individuals  sheltered  by 
the  state.  This  ideal  has  slowly  developed  since  the 
last  great  awakening  of  Occidental  thought.  It  be- 
gan with  the  movement  of  the  Renaissance,  it  has 
more  or  less  affected  the  conditions  of  all  the  states 
about  the  north  Atlantic  and  the  eastern  Mediter- 
ranean. It  has  been  of  most  effect  in  the  United 
States,  England,  and  Switzerland.  It  is  still  in  what 
we  may  term  the  experimental  stage;  in  general, 
it  has  proved  successful  when  the  original  ethnic 
diversities  were  not  very  great ;  it  is  to  be  counted 
as  yet  unsuccessful  where  the  differences  are  of  a 
high  order.  So  far  as  varieties  of  religion  or  of  so- 
cial custom  are  concerned,  they  seem  reconcilable  in 
modern  commonwealths.  As  to  those  larger  differ- 
ences such  as  are  denoted  by  color,  shape,  or  general 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  56 

intellectual  capacity,  it  evidently  remains  an  open 
question  whether  they  can  be  accommodated  in  this 
scheme  of  political  association. 

Looking  at  the  results  of  the  Roman  type  of  state, 
that  in  which  the  ethnic  varieties  included  in  the 
association  are  at  once  subjugated  and  protected, 
and  where  their  tribal  motives  are  respected,  we  find 
a  system  which  within  certain  limits  works  in  an 
admirable  manner.  The  dominated  folk  are  in  gen- 
eral left  to  the  guidance  of  their  ethnic  motives,  they 
are  taxed  for  the  benefit  of  the  conquering  state,  and 
have  to  bear  arms  in  its  service,  but  they  retain  the 
most  precious  of  their  rights.  So  long  as  the  ideal 
of  a  state  is  for  the  benefit  of  the  few  the  Roman 
method  of  combining  people  of  varied  ethnic  motives 
in  one  dynamic  association  is  satisfactory.  It  may, 
indeed,  be  held  that,  with  one  exception,  never  before 
or  since  the  latter  centuries  of  Roman  rule  have  such 
diverse  kinds  of  men  been  so  effectively  blended  in  a 
state.  That  exception  is  the  rule  of  England,  where 
within  the  last  half  century,  by  the  extension  and 
bettering  of  the  Roman  system,  yet  more  diverse 
peoples  have  been  brought  under  one  control. 

There  are  two  difficulties  connected  with  the  Ro- 
man method  or  its  English  adaptation.  In  the  first 
place  it  does  not  meet  the  demand  for  the  conditions 
of  a  democracy  which  is  at  the  foundations  of  our 


56  THE  NEIGHBOR 

modern  politico-social  endeavors ;  and  in  the  second 
place  it  in  no  sense  helps  to  the  solution  of  the 
gravest  problem  of  the  situation,  which  is  as  to  the 
ways  in  which  diverse  ethnic  groups  can  dwell  to- 
gether in  an  intimate  geographical  as  well  as  politi- 
cal relation.  The  ethnic  elements  of  the  Roman 
state  were  to  a  great  extent  separated  from  one  an- 
other, as  those  of  England  now  are ;  but  the  problem 
of  to-day,  particularly  in  America,  concerns  the  ways 
in  which  the  diverse  peoples  can  be  brought  to  dwell 
side  by  side  as  contributors  to  a  common  life.  Fel- 
low-citizenship in  the  Roman  sense  can  be  easily 
attained,  for  it  meant  no  more  than  the  right  to  the 
protection  of  a  state  strong  enough  to  give  it  effec- 
tively. In  the  sense  in  which  we  would  have  it,  — 
that  is,  an  equal  share  of  all  the  duties  as  well  as  the 
benefits  of  the  commonwealth,  a  chance  to  act  with 
no  other  limitation  than  that  set  by  capacity,  and 
with  the  inborn  powers  of  each  developed  to  the 
utmost,  —  this  end  has  not  as  yet  been  attained,  but 
it  is  the  worthy  goal  that  modern  democracy  has  set. 
It  may  here  be  noted  that  the  Roman  plan  of  the 
state  was  in  its  time  unique ;  mere  subjugation  of 
puny  tribes  is  indefinitely  old,  but  the  idea  of  toler- 
ance which  permitted  the  dominated  people  to  retain 
a  place  as  sharers  of  the  commonwealth  other  than 
as  vassals,  which  set  the  gods  of  aliens  beside  their 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  57 

own,  was  an  innovation,  one  hitherto  without  paral- 
lel in  history.  There  is  no  trace  of  any  such  political 
liberty  among  the  Greeks,  who,  with  all  their  con- 
ceptions of  life  and  action,  never  in  politics  escaped 
from  a  rather  narrow  ethnic  motive.  The  reasons 
for  this  singular  and  rapid  development  of  the  Ro- 
man type  of  confederacy  are  not  evident  They  are, 
perhaps,  to  be  found  hi  part  in  the  dutifulness  of 
the  Roman  spirit,  a  motive  which  made  them  pecul- 
iarly willing  to  sacrifice  prejudices  for  then*  ideals 
of  the  commonwealth,  combined  as  it  was  with  a  re- 
markably uncritical  state  of  mind.  They  were  so 
little  moved  by  the  skeptic  motive  of  the  Greeks  that 
they  never  entered  in  any  field  of  science,  and  hi  the 
arts  no  invention  or  considerable  improvement  came 
from  them.  This  lack  of  concern  with  things  that 
are  not  perfectly  evident  limited  their  interest  hi 
theology  to  the  observance  of  inherited  forms.  They 
had  little  or  no  sense  of  that  devotion  to  spiritual 
affairs  which  has  so  influenced  the  Hebrew  people. 
This  combination  of  qualities  served  to  make  them 
masterful  men  of  business  and  they  made  their  state 
the  noblest  shop  the  world  has  ever  known.  Their 
motive  afforded  no  basis  for  ethnic  prejudices,  for 
the  fellow-man  was  but  a  bit  of  utility  that  should 
be  made  despite  his  vagaries  to  fit  into  the  polity 
of  the  state ;  if  he  did  his  citizenly  duty  it  did  not 


58  THE  NEIGHBOR 

matter  what  was  the  color  of  his  mind  or  hide. 
Despite  its  manifold  evils,  in  its  best  centuries  the 
Roman  system  is  the  noblest  work  that  man  accom- 
plished in  the  way  of  government  until  the  British 
Empire  came  to  its  best  estate,  and  in  some  ways  it 
transcends  that  great  work. 

One  of  the  consequences  of  the  Roman  success 
in  the  government  of  alien  peoples  is  that  it  has 
remained  to  this  day  as  an  ideal  of  imperial  con- 
trol. Nearly  every  government  has  had  its  concepts 
of  civil  polity  affected  by  an  ill-understood  sense  of 
how  the  Roman's  work  was  done ;  ill-understood  be- 
cause it  was  not  perceived  that  without  the  spirit  of 
Gallic  its  work  could  not  be  done.  All  the  many  ex- 
periments of  reconciling  and  combining  diverse  peo- 
ples under  modern  rulers  has  failed  because  those 
rulers  have  been  animated  by  their  own  ethnic  or 
tribal  motive,  which  suggests  that  dominated  peo- 
ple must  live  and  think  in  the  manner  of  their  mas- 
ters and  that  existence  is  intolerable  until  they  are 
made  to  do  so.  If  we  look  over  the  history  of  Europe 
we  find,  with  trifling  exceptions,  of  which  Switzer- 
land is  the  most  prominent,  and  even  in  a  measure 
there,  that  the  impulse  to  insure  uniformity  in  lan- 
guage, mode  of  local  government,  and  even  less  im- 
portant features,  has  been  the  basis  of  never-ending 
contentions.  Further  on  in  this  book  I  shall  give  an 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  59 

illustration  of  this  in  the  case  of  the  expatriated 
Jews ;  but  if  the  reader  knows  no  more  than  the  out- 
lines of  the  histories  of  the  countries  which  were 
once  within  the  limits  of  Roman  control,  his  memory 
will  supply  a  host  of  instances  where  the  modern 
ruling  spirit  has  failed  when  that  of  the  Empire 
would  have  succeeded.  Of  these  perhaps  the  most 
indicative  is  that  of  English  rule  in  Ireland,  where 
for  near  eight  hundred  years  the  effect  of  the  ethnic 
motive  of  rulers  has  been  admirably  and  disastrously 
exhibited,  and  where  for  all  tune  it  has  been  shown 
how,  short  of  extermination,  it  is  impossible  to  re- 
duce a  vigorous  folk  to  acceptance  of  alien  ideals  of 
life. 

The  whole  story  of  European  conquests  since  the 
discovery  of  America  is  one  vast  illustration  of  the 
impossibility  of  profitable  subjugation  of  alien  folk 
on  other  than  the  Roman  plan.  Half  a  dozen  states 
have  essayed  it  in  Asia,  Africa,  and  the  Americas, 
but  the  result  has  been  that  no  peoples  have  ever 
been  brought  to  the  habits  of  their  conquerors. 
Hundreds  of  tribal  associations  have  been  destroyed 
in  these  modern  conquests,  but  in  no  instance  known 
to  me  have  any  of  those  primitive  societies  been 
effectively  adopted  into  the  life  of  the  conquering 
people.  The  nearest  approach  to  success  in  this  field 
of  endeavor  has  been  with  some  of  the  tribes  of 


60  THE  NEIGHBOR 

North  American  Indians  who  have  been  brought  to 
dwell  in  amity  with  our  people ;  but  in  no  case  can 
these  reconciliations  be  deemed  really  successful,  for 
the  remnants  merely  abide  in  our  state,  taking  no 
serviceable  part  in  its  life. 

In  the  parts  of  the  Americas  and  other  countries 
colonized  by  the  Latin  Europeans,  the  problem  of 
contact  between  the  invaders  and  the  indigenes  has 
been,  in  a  way,  settled  by  the  amalgamation  of  the 
diverse  races.  This  is  an  ancient,  and,  so  far,  the  only 
successful  plan  of  breaking  down  the  barriers  be- 
tween widely  parted  ethnic  groups.  Where  the 
physical  differences  between  such  groups  are  but 
slight,  say  of  the  value  that  exists  between  the  vari- 
ous stocks  of  Europe,  or  in  general  of  less  than  race 
importance,  miscegenation  has  proved  on  the  whole 
advantageous ;  but  the  evidence  is  overwhelmingly 
to  the  effect  that  the  admixture  of  the  blood  of 
stocks  as  diverse  as  the  Negroes  and  the  Aryans,  or 
the  South  American  Indians,  has  very  evil  results, 
—  the  hybrids  generally  being  weaker  than  either 
parent  stock,  rarely  surviving  to  old  age,  and  with- 
out their  more  valuable  mental  and  moral  quali- 
ties. It  should,  however,  be  noted  that  even  where 
the  differences  of  race  are  as  great  as  those  be- 
tween the  American  Indian  and  the  European  the 
result  of  the  cross-breeding  may  be  fairly  successful, 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  61 

the  half-breeds  being  men  of  good  physique  and 
fair  mental  ability.  The  Cherokee  chief  Sequoia,  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  men  this  country  has  pro- 
duced, was  a  half-breed.  To  him  we  owe  the  inter- 
esting and  most  difficult  invention  of  the  Cherokee 
alphabet  or  rather  syllabary,  which  is  still  exten- 
sively used.  When  we  remember  that  this  Cadmean 
feat  was  accomplished  by  an  essentially  illiterate 
person,  it  has  to  be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  most 
noteworthy  of  recent  times. 

The  simpler  and  more  striking  failures  of  conquer- 
ing peoples  hi  appropriating  alien  tribes  appear  to  be 
due  to  the  incapacity  of  primitive  folk  to  endure  the 
continued  stress  of  toil  which  is  demanded  in  the 
state  of  civilization.  This  social  state  depends  mainly 
on  the  abili ty  of  men  and  women  to  labor  during  the 
period  of  vigorous  life.  While  the  greater  part  of 
the  impulses  which  serve  to  hold  our  society  together 
are  derived  from  the  life  below  the  human  plane, 
those  which  lead  to  effective  toil  are  of  late  origin. 
In  the  series  below  our  estate  the  creatures  take  no 
account  of  needs  to  come  ;  they  accumulate  no  store 
of  food  and  show  no  trace  of  forethought.  The  ran- 
dom species  of  mammals  which  make  any  provision 
for  the  future,  such  as  the  rodents,  are  all  far  away 
from  the  series  that  lead  to  man.  In  the  lowest  men 
now  existing,  —  presumably  in  culture  much  above 


62  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  most  primitive,  —  while  there  is  some  impulse 
to  accumulate  wealth,  it  does  not  attain  sufficient 
strength  to  lead  them  to  continuous  labor.  The  habit 
of  toil  appears  to  develop  very  slowly  and  not  to  be 
well  instilled  until  the  tribal  society  attains  a  com- 
plexity which  admits  of  taskmasters,  of  men  with 
authority  to  enforce  labor  on  subordinates.  It  seems 
likely  that  the  development  of  the  labor  habit  has 
been  in  some  measure  effected  by  natural  selection, 
those  societies  in  which  it  became  established  win- 
ning therefrom  a  better  chance  of  survival  in  the 
ages  of  conflict  between  tribe  and  tribe.  In  some  in- 
stances, as  in  the  African  Negroes,  where  the  popu- 
lation was  relatively  dense,  the  capacity  for  toil  was 
brought  to  a  high  development  though  the  other 
social  conditions  were  relatively  low.  In  other  cases, 
as  with  many  tribes  of  North  America,  while  the 
people  may  have  won  far  up  hi  other  human  quali- 
ties, they  have  not  developed  the  laboring  habit. 

Perhaps  the  best  illustration  of  the  difficulties 
arising  from  the  lack  of  development  of  toiling 
capacity  is  found  in  our  American  Indians.  The 
people  of  this  stock  are,  as  regards  their  general  in- 
telligence, little,  if  at  all,  below  the  average  of  Eu- 
ropeans. Their  physical  development  is  probably 
rather  above  the  plane  of  the  so-called  Aryan  folk. 
Excluding  certain  of  the  degraded  tribes,  such  as  the 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  63 

Digger  Indians,  they  are  well-made  creatures.  When 
stimulated  by  the  war-humor  or  the  excitement  of 
the  chase  they  are  remarkably  enduring,  but  they 
cannot  stand  steady  toil.  When  this  is  enforced 
upon  them  they  break  down.  This  lack  of  capacity 
to  apply  energy  in  a  continuous  manner  appears  to 
be  due  to  some  peculiarity  of  the  nervous  system ; 
as  is  indicated  by  the  common  belief  among  the  pio- 
neers who  have  wrestled  with  Indians  in  combat, 
that  any  white  man  can  slay  any  Indian  if  he  grap- 
ples with  him. 

The  fate  of  the  Indian  in  contact  with  the  peoples 
of  northern  Europe  appears  to  have  been  in  large 
measure  determined  by  his  inability  to  labor.  Here 
and  there  efforts  were  made  to  reduce  him  to  slav- 
ery. These  efforts  were  occasionally  successful  in 
so  far  as  the  mere  subjugation  was  concerned,  but 
the  folk  quickly  died  in  the  new  conditions.  So  far 
as  I  have  been  able  to  find,  they  did  not  endure  for 
more  than  three  generations,  except  where,  as  in 
Mexico,  their  blood  was  mingled  with  that  of  their 
conquerors.  At  best  they  can  be  brought  to  do  suffi- 
cient work  to  feed  themselves ;  but  their  productive 
activity  always  remains  very  low. 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  this  failure  of  the 
able-minded  and  vigorous-bodied  Indian  to  meet  the 
labor  demands  of  civilization  with  the  eminent  sue- 


64  THE  NEIGHBOR 

cess  of  the  African  races  in  that  regard.  The  Ne- 
groes of  North  America  have  been  for  many  gener- 
ations forced  to  toil  as  assiduously  as  any  civilized 
men,  and  their  work  has  been  done  under  conditions 
of  climate,  food,  and  general  environment  utterly 
different  from  those  to  which  they  were  accustomed 
in  the  regions  where  their  qualities  were  acquired. 
Yet  they  remain  vigorous,  fecund,  and  highly  reac- 
tive, having  lost  nothing  of  their  pristine  nature ; 
they  are  as  firmly  implanted  hi  this  extra-tropical 
realm  as  any  of  our  European  stocks.  Even  as  far 
north  as  New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia,  and  Ontario 
to  the  third  or  fourth  generation  they  appear  to 
suffer  no  loss  of  vitality  or  laboring  power.  From 
this  contrast  we  see  that  the  first  condition  deter- 
mining the  possibility  of  bringing  alien  races  to- 
gether in  a  state  is  that  their  capacities  for  toil  shall 
be  alike  well  developed.  It  does  not  follow  that  the 
whole  of  the  accord  needed  for  social  efficiency  will 
be  thus  attained,  but  equality  hi  laboring  power  af- 
fords the  required  foundation  for  all  the  other  neces- 
sary relations. 

Next  in  importance  to  the  capacity  to  work  to- 
gether with  them  on  something  like  equal  terms 
comes  the  capacity  of  a  conquered  people  to  change 
their  ideals  of  life  in  such  measure  as  is  required  to 
fit  the  spirit  of  their  masters.  This  ability  to  alter 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  65 

the  point  of  view  is  generally  very  small  It  is  evi- 
dently least  where  the  folk  are  imbued  with  a  reli- 
gious faith  of  an  intense  order.  Thus  the  Jews,  who 
have  retained  a  religion  perhaps  the  most  intense 
the  world  has  known,  have,  though  the  difference 
in  faith  is  small,  never  become  effectively  recon- 
ciled with  any  Christian  society.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Negroes,  with  a  religion  of  a  low  and  incohe- 
rent kind,  quickly  accept,  as  far  as  their  mental 
powers  enable  them  to  do,  the  ideals  of  the  Euro- 
peans. There  remains  a  somewhat  greater  tendency 
to  blind  superstitions,  but  this  seems  to  fade  away 
after  a  few  generations  of  contact  with  the  whites. 
Thus  it  comes  about  that,  so  far  from  identity  of 
race  being  the  gauge  of  the  capacity  of  a  subjugated 
people  to  enter  into  the  society  of  their  conquerors, 
such  union  may  be  the  easier  if  hi  their  original  con- 
ditions they  were  far  apart.  The  question  seems  to 
be  as  to  the  intensity  of  the  ethnic  motive  in  the 
included  folk.  When  this,  as  in  the  Jews,  is  strong, 
though  the  other  ideals  of  the  two  peoples  may  be 
very  much  alike  and  the  races  of  a  quality  that 
favors  amalgamation  of  blood,  they  may  remain 
hopelessly  separated. 

In  looking  over  the  contact  phenomena  of  the 
militant  races  with  the  feebler  tribes  encountered 
in  their  migrations,  we  come  upon  a  number  of  in- 


66  THE  NEIGHBOR 

stances  in  which  some  one  point  of  difference  has 
apparently  served  as  a  barrier  to  effective  union. 
Thus  with  the  Austrian  monarchy  the  ideal  of  sep- 
aration has  made  it  impossible  to  unite  Hungary, 
Bohemia,  and  the  other  states  of  that  association  hi 
a  firm  manner,  for  the  reason  that  the  ancient  tribal 
motive  of  autonomy  has  been  so  strong  that  no  in- 
terests of  an  economic  kind  could  prevail  over  it. 
That  empire  is  likely  to  fall  into  ruin  and  its  de- 
tached peoples  to  come  to  a  worse  estate  than  that 
hi  which  they  now  are,  for  the  reason  that  each 
struggles  for  the  shadow  of  independence.  In  Swit- 
zerland the  same  motive  for  a  long  time  endangered 
the  safety  of  the  union  which  alone  safeguarded  its 
ancient  freedom.  We  have  seen  the  same  autonomic 
motive  hi  another  form  bring  the  American  Union  to 
the  verge  of  destruction.  The  facts  justify  us  in  as- 
suming that  there  is  hi  human  nature  a  permanent 
tribal  ideal  which  has  to  be  in  some  manner  gratified. 
The  least  advanced  peoples  found  their  satisfaction 
within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  clan;  the  Greeks 
found  it  hi  their  city,  —  for  all  their  enlargement, 
hardly  at  any  time  attaining  to  a  wider  ideal.  With 
their  advancement  a  people  may  in  their  imaginations 
compass  a  Roman  or  a  British  empire.  In  time  we 
may  hope  that  the  extension  will  lead  men  to  the 
point  where  the  unit  will  be  mankind. 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  67 

Looking  more  closely  at  the  problem  of  the  auto- 
nomic  desire  it  appears  to  me  plain  that  the  breadth 
of  the  impulse  is  to  be  measured  by  the  capacity  of 
the  minds  of  a  given  folk  to  include  a  wide  range  of 
earth  and  men  in  the  field  of  their  sympathies.  We 
see  that  lads  of  a  town  are  likely  to  be  divided  into 
rather  small  bands  each  with  a  Philistinish  humor 
towards  the  other.  As  grown  men,  in  accordance  with 
the  breadth  of  view  to  which  they  have  attained,  the 
whole  town,  the  country,  the  state,  or  the  nation 
stands  for  their  larger  selves.  In  effect,  a  man's  tribe 
is  so  much  of  his  kind  as  he  can  imaginatively  unite 
with  himself.  With  some  peoples,  even  where  the 
constructive  fancy  is  large  and  the  sympathies  in- 
tense, a  strong  prepossession  such  as  the  tenets  of  a 
peculiar  creed  may,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Jews,  keep 
the  tribal  motive  within  narrow  limits.  In  other 
instances,  as  in  Russia  of  to-day,  the  sense  of  a  com- 
mon spiritual  head  may  in  a  measure  afford  a  bond 
to  an  indefinite  number  of  separate  tribal  centers,  so 
that  with  very  great  variation  in  the  modes  in  which 
it  is  expressed  this  sense  of  the  governing  unit  of 
their  sympathies  and  understandings  is  to  them  the 
real  state. 

It  should  not  be  supposed  that  the  motive  of  the 
tribe,  the  patriotic  motive  in  fact,  is,  like  many  another 
of  the  impulses  derived  from  the  lower  life  of  beast 


68  THE  NEIGHBOR 

and  man,  a  thing  that  can  lightly  be  put  aside  or  of  a 
nature  to  disappear  with  advancing  culture.  If  seen 
correctly  it  will  be  recognized  as  an  extension  of  the 
instincts  that  hold  kindred  together,  and  as  ineradi- 
cable as  the  motive  of  the  family.  Those  who  have 
known  the  American  Indians  or  other  primitive  folk 
in  the  various  conditions  of  their  contacts  with  the 
whites  must  have  seen  hi  the  very  aspect  of  the 
people  the  mighty  satisfaction  which  each  individual 
has  in  the  sense  that  his  tribe  is  strong,  and  the 
sorrowful  degradation  which  comes  upon  him  when 
he  no  longer  feels  its  shelter.  Thus  the  prosperous 
Flatheads  of  Montana,  who  retain  their  tribal  free- 
dom because  they  have  to  a  great  extent  avoided  war 
with  the  whites,  or  the  Seminoles  of  the  Everglades 
of  Florida,  who  have  curiously  managed  to  keep 
their  hold  on  that  wilderness  and  have  never  known 
an  Indian  agent,  are  still  the  ancient  proud  red  men, 
while  the  remnants  of  the  once  great  tribes  of  the 
plains  are  cowed  and  despondent.  It  is,  indeed,  evi- 
dent that  tribal  affections  may  go  far  either  to  uplift 
a  man  or  to  take  away  a  part  of  the  natural  sym- 
pathetic foundations  of  his  life.  We  cannot  expect 
to  replace  those  affections  at  our  pleasure,  giving  in 
exchange  those  of  some  other  tribe  or  state  to  the 
man  who  is  grieved  for  the  loss  of  his  own.  The 
relation  of  human  beings  to  their  societies  rests 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  69 

upon  primitive  affections  such  as  have  engendered 
our  own  patriotism.  They  are  not  rational  motives 
and  are  not  readily  to  be  qualified  by  reason.  They 
are  to  be  respected  because  they  are  of  the  noblest 
and  largest  part  of  man's  inheritances. 

The  value  of  the  ethnic  or  tribal  motive  in  giving 
a  sense  of  efficiency  to  any  society  has  been  adverted 
to.  When  civilized  states  come  to  reckon  on  this 
value  we  may  hope  to  see  them  make  the  inevitable 
extensions  of  their  domains  without  unnecessarily 
disturbing  the  natural  conditions  of  the  peoples  they 
come  to  rule  over.  That  it  is  possible  thus  to  deal 
with  ancient  societies  is  well  shown  by  the  history 
of  British  India.  By  a  series  of  accidents  rather  than 
by  design  Great  Britain  has  attained  to  a  method  of 
government  in  the  East  which  serves  to  maintain 
order  and  to  ensure  the  amplest  commercial  oppor- 
tunities without  destroying  the  sense  of  freedom 
among  the  native  people.  In  its  present  condition 
this  rule  is  a  distinct  improvement  on  the  Roman 
method,  in  that,  aside  from  the  cost  of  maintaining 
the  army  of  occupation  and  the  pensions  for  its 
officers  and  men  there  is  no  evident  taxation  for 
other  than  local  use.  There  is  effectively  no  charge 
upon  these  colonies  that  is  not  for  the  service  of 
their  people.  The  result  of  this  system  since  it  was 
cleared  of  its  original  iniquities  has  been  that  the 


70  THE  NEIGHBOR 

states  of  India  have  prospered  as  never  before  in  the 
millenniums  of  their  history.  Various  social  evils 
have  been  abolished  or  greatly  dimmish  ed,  the  peo- 
ple have  been  free  to  follow  out  their  indigenous  mo- 
tives ;  to  them  the  overlord  appears  in  the  quality  of 
a  protector  alone. 

The  most  interesting  feature  in  the  unique  suc- 
cess of  the  British  government  in  India  is  that  it 
has  been  the  work  of  a  people  who  by  nature,  as  is 
the  case  with  all  the  English  folk,  have  little  sympa- 
thetic interests  with  alien  races.  It  is  not  improbable 
that  this  task  has  been  the  more  successful  because 
it  has  been  done  hi  an  unsympathetic  way,  without 
any  great  effort  to  maintain  that  appearance  of 
friendship  which  cannot  bridge  the  gap  which  sepa- 
rates such  alien  peoples.  This  success,  like  that  of 
the  Romans,  has  clearly  been  due  to  the  fact  that 
the  work  of  ruling  has  been  done  in  a  business-like 
manner  for  very  definite,  limited  ends,  and  with  the 
minimum  of  action  that  would  attain  them.  As  the 
Romans  succeeded  in  part  by  their  lack  of  definite 
religious  conceptions,  so  the  English  by  their  Protest- 
ant unwillingness  to  force  their  theology  on  other 
folk  have  avoided  the  gravest  dangers  incident  to 
their  task. 

Summing  up  the  results  of  this  brief  review  of 
race  motives  hi  relation  to  government,  we  see  that 


ETHNIC  MOTIVES  71 

perhaps  the  most  frequent  source  of  maladmin- 
istration arises  from  a  failure  to  understand  the 
value  of  the  motives  entering  into  the  conditions 
which  determine  the  success  of  a  commonwealth. 
Even  to  this  day  the  most  enlightened  states  fail  to 
reckon  with  these  impulses  which  are  as  evident 
and  inevitable  as  gravitation.  In  order  that  the  mat- 
ter which  has  been  set  forth  in  general  terms  in 
the  preceding  chapters  may  be  more  conveniently  ex- 
hibited, I  propose  next  to  examine  into  two  distinct 
instances  hi  which  alien  races  have  been  embodied 
in  our  Occidental  civilization.  In  each  of  these  the 
history  is  long  enough  to  be  illustrative  and  still 
afford  problems  that  await  solution.  The  peoples  to 
be  subjected  to  this  inquiry  are  the  Jews  and  the 
Negroes. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM 

Is  many  ways  the  contact  of  the  Jews  with  the 
people  of  Europe  is  for  my  purpose  the  most  instruc- 
tive of  all  history.  It  tells  more  concerning  the  na- 
ture of  the  tribe  than  any  other,  and  though,  as  we 
shall  see,  replete  with  shames,  affords  a  better  sense 
of  the  capacity  of  the  abler  tribal  organizations  to 
endure  trials  than  is  found  elsewhere.  If  it  had 
been  contrived  for  the  purpose  it  could  hardly  have 
been  more  effective.  The  story,  though  in  a  general 
way  known,  is  in  its  important  features  often  mis- 
understood. It  is,  indeed,  very  difficult  to  set  forth 
any  account  of  it,  for  the  record  comes  mainly  from 
persons  who  share  the  prejudices  that  led  to  the 
misdeeds.  Fortunately,  hi  this  instance,  we  have  for 
a  period  of  about  six  centuries  various  fragments 
from  Greek  and  Latin  authors,  many  of  whom  ap- 
pear to  have  looked  upon  the  Jews  as  an  interesting 
people,  about  whom  they  wrote  without  religious 
prepossessions.  There  have  been  several  compila- 
tions of  these  judgments,  the  oldest  being  that  of 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  73 

Alexander  Polyhistor,  made  in  the  first  century  B.  c«, 
and  Josephus, "  Contra  Apion,"  which  have  been  the 
basis  of  most  of  the  subsequent  like  undertakings. 
Of  these  essays  by  far  the  most  valuable  is  that 
which  we  owe  to  Theodore  Reinach.1  He  has  brought 
together  more  than  two  hundred  extracts,  taken 
from  more  than  one  hundred  authors,  the  greater 
part  of  the  matter  serving  to  illustrate  the  impres- 
sion which  the  Hebrew  people  made  on  the  literary 
men  of  other  races  who  came  in  contact  with  them. 
Many  of  these  writers  had  evidently  looked  upon 
this  folk  in  the  manner  of  intelligent  publicists  who 
desired  to  see  clearly  and  note  with  fairness  what 
they  saw.  Even  when  they  evidently  do  no  more 
than  render  to  us  the  general  opinion  of  the  socie- 
ties hi  which  the  Jews  had  been  introduced,  their 
writings  have  value  as  indices  of  that  opinion.  Thus 
we  have  the  basis  for  the  study  of  the  contact 
phenomena  of  the  Israelites  with  the  Aryans  for 
over  half  a  thousand  years  without  encountering 
the  peculiar  difficulties  we  meet  in  the  Christian 
records. 

For  the  history  of  the  contact  of  the  Jews  with 
the  Christians  of  various  sects,  we  have  a  great 
body  of  literature  which  is  naturally  very  untrust- 

1  Theodore  Reinach,  Textet  d'autewt  greet  et  remains  rtlatift  au 
Judaism  :  E.  Leroux,  Paris,  1895. 


74  THE  NEIGHBOR 

worthy  save  to  show  the  curiously  malevolent  spirit 
developed  by  that  intercourse.  The  best  summary 
account  of  this  period  comes  to  us,  also,  from  Theo- 
dore Reinach  in  his  history  of  the  Israelites.1  In  this 
work  the  author  has  treated  in  a  summary  way  the 
history  of  his  people  in  all  the  lands  where  they 
have  developed  considerable  societies.  From  it  the 
reader  may  attain  a  fair  idea  of  the  general  relations 
between  the  Jews  and  their  masters  of  other  faiths, 
Mahometan  and  Zoroastrian  as  well  as  Christian. 
What  seems  to  me  perhaps  excessive  attention  is 
given  in  this  work  to  the  matter  of  persecutions, 
and  hardly  enough  to  the  ordinary  life  of  the  un- 
happy people ;  but  in  a  history  of  brutal  wrongs  it 
is  most  natural  that  such  episodes  have  claimed 
much  attention.  They  are  indeed  of  a  nature  to 
blind  even  a  Christian  observer  to  the  larger  ques- 
tions as  to  the  source  of  the  invincible  hatred  which 
those  who  deemed  themselves  followers  of  Christ 
vented  upon  the  race  whence  came  their  faith.1 

1  Histoire  det  Israelites  depuis  Vepoqtte  de  lew  dispersion  jusqu'b 
nos  jours,  par  Theodore  Reinach  :  Paris,  1885,  Hachette  et  Cie. 

2  It  should  be  understood  that  my  personal   knowledge  of  the 
Israelites  is  limited  to  observations  in  the  United  States,  and  in 
various   European   countries,   and   to  considerable   communication 
•with  men  learned  in  matters  concerning  that  people.   I  have  been 
interested  in  these  problems  for  more  than  thirty  years,  and  have 
taken  every  convenient  opportunity,  really  all  too  few  for  the  pur- 
pose, to  gain  knowledge  concerning  them. 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  75 

Before  their  dispersion,  the  Jews  had  for  some 
centuries  occupied  the  Syrian  part  of  the  Anatolian 
Peninsula,  hi  which  the  people  had  taken  on  their 
tribal  character.  There  had  been  periods  of  captivity 
such  as  other  folk  of  that  time  had  to  endure.  Dur- 
ing these,  considerable  numbers  of  the  people  had 
been  for  generations  held  hi  subjection  hi  Egypt  or 
hi  Mesopotamia.  These  and  other  struggles  with 
their  neighbor  had  served  to  intensify  an  ethnic 
motive,  which  appears  to  have  been  originally  strong, 
making  it  the  most  intense  this  world  has  ever 
seen.  The  conditions  of  the  periods  of  captivity 
were  unlike  those  of  the  later  slavery,  such  as  de- 
veloped in  Greece  and  in  Rome,  hi  that  the  folk 
appear  to  have  lived  together,  retaining  their  own 
customs,  not  being  dispersed  hi  a  way  calculated  to 
break  up  their  tribal  spirit. 

During  their  long  residence  in  Judea,  the  Israel- 
ites were  almost  exclusively  tillers  of  the  soil  and 
herdsmen.  It  is  doubtful  if  any  similarly  numerous 
and  civilized  people  were  ever  so  little  given  to 
manufacturing  or  to  trade.  Their  domestic  arts 
were  of  the  simplest,  and  they  made  no  advances  in 
the  fields  of  science  or  aesthetics.  Their  agriculture 
evidently  was  of  an  excellent,  intensive  kind,  for  in 
an  arid  region  where  only  a  small  part  of  the  soil  is 
tillable,  they  managed  to  maintain  a  denser  popula- 


76  THE  NEIGHBOR 

tion  than  could  have  been  nourished  without  skill- 
ful toil.  Although  a  warlike  people,  the  Hebrews 
never  developed  an  aggressive  motive.  This  was 
probably  due  to  their  lack  of  a  proselyting  spirit. 
They  hungered,  as  they  have  always  done,  for  domi- 
nation, but  they  instinctively  sought  that  end  by 
the  multiplication  of  their  own  stock  and  not  by 
adopting  others  into  their  tribal  system. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  consider  the  evolution  of 
the  dominating  monotheism  which  is  a  characteristic 
if  not  the  peculiar  feature  of  the  Jewish  religion.  It 
is  sufficient  to  say  that  it  was  not  as  peculiar  as 
it  has  been  held  to  be,  and  that  it  alone  does  not 
account  for  the  marvelous  integrity  of  the  tribal 
motive  of  that  stock.  So  far  as  this  was  not  a  psy- 
chologic accident,  or,  in  other  words,  due  to  an  inex- 
plicable plexus  of  influences,  it  appears  to  have  been 
brought  about,  in  part,  at  least,  by  the  rigid  system 
of  religious  observances  which  served  at  once  to 
keep  the  faith  ever  present  and  to  afford  a  very  dis- 
tinct bar  to  intercourse  with  other  tribes.  Moreover 
in  that  faith  there  was  an  obsessing  belief  in  the 
speedy  coming  of  a  heaven-sent  leader  who  should 
set  their  people  as  rulers  over  all  the  earth.  In  these 
conditions  the  Israelites  developed  a  very  compact 
society  animated  by  the  most  intense  ethnic  motive 
of  which  we  have  a  record.  Their  numbers,  the  rela- 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  77 

tive  isolation  of  their  country,  and  their  indisposi- 
tion to  interfere  with  their  strong  but  distant  neigh- 
bors might  have  served  to  maintain  the  people  in 
peace  for  many  centuries.  Unhappily,  two  events 
combined  to  make  an  end  of  their  good  fortune. 
The  founding  of  the  Christian  sect,  followed  by  its 
successful  implantation  in  the  countries  about  the 
Mediterranean,  and  the  nearly  coincident  rise  of  the 
Roman  power,  together  laid  the  foundations  of  two 
thousand  years  of  misfortune.  Either  of  these  two 
happenings  taken  alone  might  not  have  been  over- 
whelming in  its  effects ;  acting  together,  they  were 
to  this  unhappy  people  as  the  upper  and  nether  mill- 
stones. 

The  Israelites  were  well  accustomed  to  sectarian 
controversies  in  which  the  verity  of  Messiahs  was 
the  subject.  If  the  Christian  sect  had  not  spread  to 
other  races  it  would  either  have  converted  the  folk 
to  the  new  Judaism,  or  been  suppressed,  as  other 
schisms  had  been.  They  had  endured  three  cap- 
tivities and  could  doubtless  have  withstood  that  of 
Rome,  finding  their  chance  of  yet  another  return 
when  with  their  endurance  they  had  survived  the 
strength  of  their  conquerors.  As  it  was,  the  Chris- 
tianized Roman  Empire  proved  to  be  the  instrument 
which  was  to  crush  the  people  that  pagan  Rome  dis- 
persed. As  before  noted,  the  Roman's  theory  of  the 


78  THE  NEIGHBOR 

state  did  not  include  the  plan  of  exterminating  sub- 
jected peoples.  He  was  perfectly  willing  to  leave 
a  conquered  folk  on  their  ground,  and  with  a  full 
right  to  worship  their  own  gods,  but  he  required 
tribute  and  respect  of  the  Roman  laws.  The  inten- 
sity of  the  tribal  motive  made  it  practically  impos- 
sible for  the  Israelites  to  submit  to  these  limited 
exaction's,  so  in  the  end  the  empire  was  forced  to 
destroy  Jerusalem,  and  scatter  its  people  hi  such  a 
manner  that  they  came  into  contact  with  alien  folk 
who  were  becoming  imbued  with  the  Christian  faith. 
It  appears  not  improbable  that  the  dispersion  of  the 
Jews  began  with  the  first  Roman  conquest,  for  the 
reason  that  some  of  the  Jews  of  Spam  claimed  that 
their  ancestors  had  no  share  in  the  death  of  Christ, 
as  they  were  in  exile  before  that  event.  They  appear 
to  have  been  brought  in  considerable  numbers  into 
Egypt,  at  the  tune  when  Alexander  founded  the 
city  which  bears  his  name.  The  li vely  interest  of  the 
Greek  writers  in  Judaism  from  the  tune  of  Aris- 
totle, appears  to  indicate  some  contact  with  the 
people  of  that  faith.  It  is,  however,  probable  that  if 
there  were  any  Jews  resident  in  other  countries 
than  Judea  they  must  have  been  captives,  for  the 
reason  that  expatriation  was  abhorrent  to  the  people. 
The  first  appreciation  of  the  Israelites  by  the 
Greeks  which  has  value  for  our  purpose  is  in  a 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  79 

fragment  from  the  writings  of  Theophrastus,  a  dis- 
ciple of  Aristotle,  who  died  about  the  beginning  of 
the  third  century  B.  c.  It  is  a  citation  by  Porphyry 
in  his  "  De  Abstinentia,"  from  the  laws  of  Theophras- 
tus, which  Reinach  terms  the  first  monument  of  the 
science  of  justice.  It  is  in  effect  an  account  of  the 
religious  customs  of  the  Jews,  much  in  error  as  to 
facts,  but  with  no  condemnation  of  their  practices. 
He  speaks  of  them  as  a  race  of  philosophers  who 
spend  the  day  with  the  Lord,  and  the  night  in  con- 
templating the  stars.  Clearchus  of  Soli,  another 
pupil  of  Aristotle,  relates  a  discourse  of  the  master 
concerning  the  Jews,  in  which  they  are  said  to  be 
descended  from  the  philosophers  of  India.  Further 
the  master  himself  praises  them  in  much  detail  for 
their  admirable  sobriety  as  well  as  for  their  conti- 
nence. Again  Megasthenes,  who  was  sent  by  Seleu- 
cus  Nicator  to  India  in  the  third  century  B.  c.,  says 
that  all  the  opinions  expressed  by  the  ancients  on 
the  subject  of  nature  are  to  be  found  among  the 
philosophers  outside  of  Greece,  some  of  them  with 
the  Brahmans  of  India,  others  in  Syria  among  those 
who  call  themselves  Jews.  Hermippus  of  Smyrna, 
in  the  latter  half  of  the  third  century  B.  c.,  declares 
that  Pythagoras  borrowed  much  from  the  Jews, 
especially  in  regard  to  his  views  as  to  the  immortal- 
ity of  the  soul. 


80  THE  NEIGHBOR 

It  is  not  until  we  come  to  Posidonius  of  Apamea, 
who  died  about  the  middle  of  the  first  century  B.  c., 
that  we  begin  to  find  any  criticism  of  the  customs  or 
faith  of  the  Jews.  One  or  two  writers  of  this  period 
comment  on  their  unwillingness  to  defend  them- 
selves from  their  enemies  on  the  Sabbath.  Posi- 
donius, himself  a  Syrian,  speaks  of  the  people  hav- 
ing established  laws  requiring  that  no  one  of  them 
should  show  any  kindness  to  a  stranger,  and  that 
on  this  account  the  friends  of  Antiochus  urged  him 
to  destroy  them.  About  the  same  tune,  Apollonius, 
a  rhetorician  of  Rhodes,  wrote  a  book  against  the 
Jews,  the  first  of  the  long  series  of  such  works.  Lit- 
tle of  this  appears  to  have  survived,  but  from  the 
criticisms  directed  against  it  by  Josephus  and  the 
use  of  it  made  by  Apion  in  his  diatribe  it  appears  to 
have  been  animated  by  the  same  spirit  as  its  multi- 
tudinous successors,  for  they  are  termed  atheists, 
misanthropes,  thieves,  cowards ;  it  is  indeed  evident 
that  the  battle  against  the  unhappy  people  was  be- 
gun at  least  half  a  hundred  years  before  the  birth  of 
Christ. 

Although  the  criticism  of  the  Israelites  becomes 
more  evident  in  the  writings  of  the  Greek  authors 
after  the  tune  of  Posidonius,  it  is  not  until  the  mid- 
dle of  the  second  century  of  our  era  that  an  author, 
Celsus,  exhibits  like  bitterness ;  the  greater  part  of 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  81 

the  fragments  contains  no  more  than  passing  com- 
ments on  Hebraic  customs,  showing  no  hatred  of 
that  people.  Celsus  appears  to  have  in  some  way 
suffered  from  the  exiled  folk,  for  he  prays  "that  the 
herd  may  hereafter  leave  us  in  peace,  having  received 
a  fit  punishment  for  their  impudence ;  people  who 
know  not  the  Almighty,  but  who  have  been  seduced 
and  fooled  by  the  impostures  of  Moses."  Still  it  is 
evident  that  the  weight  of  criticism  is  not  distinctly 
against  the  Jews  down  to  the  beginning  of  the  third 
century.  Dion  Cassius,  a  rather  untrustworthy  his- 
torian, much  influenced  by  fables,  speaks  of  them  at 
some  length,  but  with  respect.  He  recognizes  the 
fact  that  "often  repressed  they  have  finished  by 
conquering  the  right  to  practice  their  religious  cus- 
toms." Up  to  this  time  the  influence  of  the  competi- 
tion between  the  ancient  faith  and  that  of  the  Chris- 
tians is  not  traceable  in  the  Greek  authors.  When 
they  disliked  the  Jewish  people  or  their  customs  it 
was  not  in  the  least  because  of  any  prejudices  de- 
rived from  Christian  sources ;  according  to  my  reck- 
oning, not  more  than  one  in  ten  of  the  authors 
cited  down  to  Julian  the  Apostate  in  the  middle  of 
the  fourth  century  displays  any  distinct  prejudice 
against  the  race.  Those  who  show  an  active  hatred 
appear  generally  to  have  derived  their  state  of  mind 
from  Alexandria,  where  the  Jews  were  naturally 


82  THE  NEIGHBOR 

much  disliked.  There  seems  reason  to  believe  that 
the  hatred  of  the  Jews  among  intelligent  pagans, 
Greeks,  or  Romans  of  Greek  culture,  who  did  not 
personally  know  them,  was  by  no  means  common 
until  centuries  after  the  dispersion.  Yet  the  peo- 
ple who  came  into  intimate  contact  with  the  Israel- 
ites evidently  developed  an  active  dislike  for  them, 
and  appear,  after  the  manner  of  men,  to  have  sought 
in  their  habits  and  beliefs  a  reason  for  the  antipa- 
thy which  was  due  to  the  immediate  impressions  of 
contact.  The  opportunities  which  would  have  come 
to  men  of  letters  for  seeing  the  Jews  near  by 
were  probably  small,  for  though  there  were  many 
thousand  of  them  scattered  through  the  Mediterra- 
nean countries  they  were  aggregated  hi  small  iso- 
lated communities.  The  evidence  goes  to  show  that 
even  when  dispersed  in  the  manner  of  slaves  sold 
from  the  markets  they  quickly  came  together  in 
their  little  aggregations,  secluding  themselves  as  far 
as  possible  from  their  neighbors.  Julian  the  Apos- 
tate in  his  letters  shows  a  high  appreciation  of  the 
Jewish  faith,  and  while  disposed  to  criticise  some  of 
the  teachings  of  their  prophets  valued  the  institu- 
tions of  Israel  so  highly  that  he  hoped  to  rebuild 
the  temple.  His  affection  for  the  ancient  faith  ap- 
pears to  have  been  connected  with  his  apostasy 
from  Christianity. 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  83 

Passing  now  to  the  authors  who  were  definitely 
Roman  in  spirit,  we  find  the  first  of  them  to  show 
their  estimation  of  the  Hebrew  character  is  Cicero 
(106-43  B.  c.)  hi  his  "  Pro  Flacco."  Flaccus  had  been 
governor  of  Asia  and  was  accused  of  having  appro- 
priated large  sums  of  money  which  the  Jews  of  Asia 
Minor  were  accustomed  to  send  each  year  to  Jeru- 
salem for  religious  contributions.  Cicero  hi  his  plea 
calls  to  the  knowledge  of  the  judges  "  the  nature  of 
the  Jew,  the  numbers  of  his  kind,  how  well  they 
hold  together,  and  how  powerful  they  are  in  the 
assemblies."  He  says  that  he  speaks  in  a  low  voice 
for  the  reason  that  there  are  not  wanting  persons 
disposed  to  excite  these  people  against  him  and 
against  all  good  citizens.  Although  Cicero  was  given 
to  working  on  his  own  fears  and  those  of  the  judges 
before  whom  he  was  pleading,  we  may  be  sure  that 
as  a  very  skilled  advocate  he  safely  counted  on  a  fit 
response  from  the  men  he  addressed.  The  passage 
goes  to  prove  that  about  fifty  years  before  Christ 
the  Jews  were  a  considerable  element  among  the 
Roman  plebs,  and  that  they  were  disposed  to  react 
on  their  environment.  Cicero  evidently  hated  the 
Jews,  for  in  another  place  he  speaks  of  them  as  a 
race  **  born  for  slavery." 

In  M. Terentius  Varro  (116-27  B.C.)  we  find  a  note 
of  admiration  for  the  Jewish  faith  with  its  absence  of 


84  THE  NEIGHBOR 

graven  images.  In  Horace  occurs  a  reference  to  the 
newly  awakened  proselyting  humor  of  the  people. 
Valerius  Maximus  states  that  Cn.  Cornelius  Hispalus, 
prsetor  in  139  B.  c.,  compelled  the  Jews  to  return  to 
their  own  country  because  they  corrupted  Roman 
manners  by  the  worship  of  Dispiter  Sabazius.  It  is 
likely  that  the  author  blundered  hi  this  statement, 
confounding  the  god  of  the  Hebrews  with  a  Phry- 
gian divinity.  Yet  it  appears  to  show  that  the  Jews 
at  this  early  date  had  incurred  suspicion  as  propa- 
gandists of  their  faith. 

In  Seneca,  who  died  65  B.  c.,  we  find  a  condemna- 
tion of  the  Jewish  religious  customs,  particularly  the 
Sabbath,  for  the  reason  that  by  its  observance  they 
lost  one-seventh  of  their  laboring  tune.  "  Neverthe- 
less," he  says,  "  the  practices  of  this  rascally  nation 
have  so  far  prevailed  that  they  are  received  through- 
out the  world :  the  vanquished  have  established  the 
laws  for  their  conquerors."  We  thus  have  from  the 
sagest  man  of  his  time  evidence  that  the  Israelites 
had  won  an  unusually  strong  place  among  the  Ro- 
mans. A  like  critical  note  appears  briefly  in  Petro- 
nius  and  hi  Lucian. 

In  Pliny  the  Elder  we  find  a  passage  full  of  high 
praise  for  the  sect  of  the  Essenes.  He  speaks  also  of 
another  sect  devoted  to  magic  who  are  followers  of 
Moses.  This  conception  of  Moses  as  a  magician  ap- 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  85 

pears  also  in  other  authors.  Quinctilian,  who  died 
about  96  B.  c.,  says  it  is  a  disgrace  to  its  founder  to 
have  organized  a  nation  poisonous  to  other  nations. 
In  Martial,  who  died  about  104  A.  D.,  and  Juvenal, 
who  died  about  138  A.  D.,  we  have  again  the  bitter 
note.  In  the  latter  we  find  once  more  the  list  of 
iniquities  concerning  their  treatment  of  the  stranger 
and  their  failure  to  take  part  on  the  seventh  day  hi 
the  duties  of  life.  Here,  too,  there  is  reference  to 
conversions  made  by  the  Jews. 

It  is  hi  Tacitus,  born  about  55  A.  D.,  that  we  find 
the  most  extended  and  by  far  the  most  scathing 
diatribe  against  the  Jews  that  exists  in  any  extant 
Latin  writing.  What  among  other  writers  appears 
as  no  more  than  dislike  is  by  him  set  forth  with  a 
rancorous  hatred.  He  refers  to  the  order  of  the  sen- 
ate in  the  year  19  by  which  four  thousand  Jews 
were  sent  to  fight  the  brigands  in  Sardinia,  calling 
them  "  libertines  infected  by  this  (Jewish)  supersti- 
tion ; "  saying,  further,  that  if  they  perished  it  would 
be  no  matter  for  regret.  He  says  of  Christianity 
that  it  is  another  execrable  superstition  which  had 
its  origin  in  Judea.  Then  follows  a  general  account 
of  the  Jews,  with  a  story  of  the  siege  of  Jerusalem 
by  Titus.  Though  interesting  on  account  of  its  style 
it  is  worthless  as  history ;  its  value  is  found  in  the 
light  it  throws  on  the  state  of  mind  of  an  able  and 


86  THE  NEIGHBOR 

judicious  man  who  generally  is  trustworthy,  but 
who  in  this  matter  was  provoked  by  rage  to  the 
characteristic  anti-semitic  state  of  mind. 

From  the  time  of  Tacitus  onward  to  the  end  of 
the  period  hi  which  the  Roman  motive,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  Christian,  found  expression,  the 
few  notable  records  indicate  that  the  state  of  mind 
concerning  the  Jews  which  we  find  hi  Tacitus  was 
generally  approved.  The  last  of  these  authors  worthy 
of  note,  Rutilius  Numatianus,  is  a  poet  born  hi  Gaul 
who  wrote  in  the  first  part  of  the  fifth  century.  To 
him  we  owe  an  interesting  narration  in  verse,  giv- 
ing an  account  of  a  journey  from  Rome  to  Gaul.  In 
this  he  describes  a  Jew,  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
tact, hi  the  f ollowing  terms  :**...  But  the  charm  of 
this  delightful  resting  place  was  destroyed  by  the 
rudeness  of  its  keeper,  a  ruder  host  than  Antipathus, 
a  filthy  Jew  who  had  charge  of  the  place.  .  .  .  We 
answered  him  with  the  curses  which  his  miserable 
race  deserves,  a  shameless  folk  who  practice  circum- 
cision. .  .  .  Whose  souls  are  even  colder  than  their 
religion :  who  pass  hi  shameful  idleness  one  day  hi 
seven  in  imitation  of  their  vile  God.  Their  other  be- 
liefs are  lying  dreams  of  crazy  slaves  that  a  child 
would  not  believe.  Would  it  had  pleased  Heaven 
that  Judea  had  never  been  conquered  by  the  wars  of 
Pompey  and  the  arms  of  Titus.  The  uprooted  evil 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  87 

spreads  the  contagion  abroad  and  the  vanquished 
nation  oppresses  its  conquerors."  The  impression 
we  derive  from  the  interesting  poem  of  Rutilius,  the 
latest  of  the  Roman  poets,  is  that  he  was  of  very 
gentle  quality.  His  descriptions  of  scenery  are  near 
to  the  best  we  find  in  that  group  of  authors.  That 
he  should  have  gone  out  of  his  way  thus  to  heap  in- 
sults on  the  Jewish  people  shows  that  their  presence 
offended  him  sorely. 

With  Rutilius  we  close  the  account  of  about  ten 
centuries  of  pagan  Greece  and  Rome  with  the  Isra- 
elites, a  period  comparable  in  length  to  that  which 
has  elapsed  since  the  time  of  King  Alfred.  It  is  a 
strange  story.  In  the  beginning,  when  they  were 
not  personally  known,  and  while  their  religion  and 
their  customs  were  fairly  well  understood,  they 
were  esteemed  as  philosophers.  As  soon,  however, 
as  they  began  to  appear  in  considerable  numbers 
on  the  northern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  they 
became  the  objects  of  general  abuse.  It  is  not  that 
they  were  folk  of  curious  aspect ;  Greeks  and  Ro- 
mans alike  were  used  to  such  men ;  and,  so  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  find,  they  in  no  wise  revolted 
even  at  the  blackest  Africans.  They  seem  to  have 
welcomed  all  other  kinds  of  men  with  an  amiable 
curiosity.  I  propose  further  on  to  examine  into  the 
reasons  for  this  prejudice,  which,  in  the  case  of  the 


88  THE  NEIGHBOR 

Romans,  appears  almost  to  do  violence  to  the  essen- 
tial sobriety  of  their  nature  and  their  business-like 
way  of  looking  upon  the  differences  between  men. 
The  main  point  for  our  immediate  purpose  is  to  note 
that  the  judgment  of  many  of  the  ablest  men  of  the 
pagan  world,  Greeks  and  Romans  alike,  was  to  the 
effect  that  the  Israelites  were  a  very  peculiar  and 
detestable  people. 

It  is  evident  that  the  attitude  of  Christian  Europe 
towards  the  Jews  was  but  a  continuation  of  that 
into  which  the  earlier  pagan  Europe  had  been  led 
by  its  experience  with  that  race.  It  should  be  noted 
that  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  so  far  scattered 
the  Jewish  population  that  in  the  second  century 
of  our  era  it  is  said  that  there  was  no  city  of  the 
empire  where  some  member  of  the  race  could  not 
be  found.  The  evidence  goes  to  show  that  the 
Israelites,  originally  closely  bound  up  with  their 
country,  had  begun  to  wander  before  the  final  de- 
struction of  their  city.  We  do  not  know  the  number 
sold  into  slavery  after  the  campaign  of  Titus,  but  it 
is  likely  to  have  amounted  to  more  than  a  hundred 
thousand.  There  are  no  statements  that  afford  even 
a  basis  for  conjecture  as  to  the  number  of  Jews,  or 
the  ratio  of  their  folk  to  the  other  elements  of  the 
population  at  the  time  when  the  Christian  church 
came  to  hold  the  temporal  power. 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  89 

It  is  a  common  supposition  that  the  Jews  entered 
Europe  altogether  by  way  of  the  Mediterranean.  It 
appears  probable  that  there  was  a  considerable 
movement  into  Occidental  countries  by  way  of  By- 
zantium and  by  even  more  northern  routes.  Thus 
it  appears  that  some  time  before  the  advent  of 
Mahomet,  probably  in  the  seventh  century,  a  con- 
siderable colony  of  Israelites  was  established  on  the 
Volga,  and  that  a  king  of  the  Kazans  who  held  this 
region  was  converted  to  the  Jewish  faith.  There 
seems  to  be  no  evidence  as  to  the  stock  to  which 
these  Kazans  belonged,  or  their  numbers.  We  know 
no  more  of  them  save  that  in  the  tenth  century 
they  were  conquered  by  Russians  from  Kiev,  and 
that  some  of  them  found  refuge  hi  the  Crimea.  Rei- 
nach  states  that  certain  writers  have  held  the  Polish 
Jews  to  be  in  part  the  descendants  of  the  Kazan  col- 
ony. A  more  southern  path  to  Transalpine  Europe 
was  open  to  them  by  way  of  Byzantium  and  the 
Danube.  It  appears  not  impossible  that  some  por- 
tion of  the  Jewish  folk  of  Germany  entered  that 
country  by  this  road. 

It  should  be  noted  that  a  large,  if  not  the  greater 
part,  of  the  voluntary  migration  of  the  Jews,  after 
the  destruction  of  their  city,  was  to  the  eastward 
into  Mesopotamia,  a  region  better  known  to  them 
than  the  Occident.  It  is  evident  that  they  found 


90  THE  NEIGHBOR 

there  more  favorable  conditions  than  Europe  af- 
forded, for  they  were  for  a  time  so  far  exempt  from 
persecutions  that  after  their  ancient  manner  they 
developed  characteristic  hostile  sects.  The  conquest 
of  Irak  by  the  Mussulmans,  their  kindred  in  race 
and  faith,  was  for  a  time  advantageous  to  the  devel- 
opment of  the  Jews.  About  the  year  1000  the  dis- 
like of  the  native  people  appears  to  have  led  to  the 
destruction  of  the  Jewish  colonies  in  Mesopotamia, 
but  the  thousand  years  of  their  last  experiences  in 
the  valley  of  the  Twin  Rivers  appears  to  have  been 
in  many  ways  the  happiest  of  their  race,  certainly 
the  most  fortunate  of  their  existence  outside  the 
limits  of  Judea. 

Next  in  importance  to  the  settlements  of  the  ex- 
patriated Jews  in  Irak  come  those  of  Spain.  As 
before  remarked,  this  colonization  may,  in  part,  date 
back  to  the  first  destruction  of  the  temple.  It  cer- 
tainly was  extensive  before  the  downfall  of  the  Ro- 
man empire ;  and  it  is  here  that  the  struggle  with  the 
christianized  peoples  was  the  longest  and  most  vio- 
lent. The  earlier  of  the  Visigoth  kings  were  followers 
of  Aryanism ;  this  was  a  form  of  the  Christian  faith 
closely  allied  to  modern  Unitarianism,  that  is  to  say, 
it  was  without  the  element  of  polytheism  which  was 
established  in  the  faith  by  the  Council  of  Nice,  and 
which  made  it  impossible  to  effect  any  reconcilia- 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  91 

tion  between  the  old  and  the  new  Judaism.  So  long 
as  this  Aryan  creed  prevailed,  the  relations  in  Spain 
between  Jews  and  Christians  were  not  seriously  in- 
imical, but  when  at  the  end  of  the  sixth  century 
the  kings  became  orthodox  the  trouble  began  which 
was  to  end  eight  hundred  years  later  in  the  expul- 
sion of  the  Jews  from  the  Iberian  Peninsula.  It  is 
impracticable  in  this  writing  to  give  even  in  outline 
the  history  of  the  conflict  between  the  old  and  new 
Judaism  in  Spam.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
trace  the  march  of  that  tragic  series  of  events,  the 
facts  go  to  show  that  the  hatred  of  the  Spaniards 
for  the  Israelites  was  not  altogether,  perhaps  not 
mainly,  because  of  religious  differences,  but  was  due, 
at  least  in  part,  to  difference  in  temper  of  the  con- 
trasted folk.  That  the  treatment  of  the  Jews  in 
Spain  was  more  obdurately  cruel  than  elsewhere, 
though  brutal  enough  in  other  countries,  was  per- 
haps due  to  the  survival  of  a  certain  cruel  motive  in 
the  Spanish  blood  which  has  continued  to  our  day. 
The  most  interesting  feature  in  the  social  history 
of  the  Spanish  Jews  is  that  we  find  there  the  first 
clear  evidence  of  a  development  in  them  of  that 
capacity  for  finance  which  has  become  so  character- 
istic of  the  race  in  all  Occidental  countries.  Here, 
as  elsewhere,  the  establishment  of  this  occupation 
appears  to  have  been  due  to  the  enforced  separa- 


92  THE  NEIGHBOR 

tion  of  the  Jews  from  the  land,  and  the  limitation 
of  their  employment  to  those  occupations  which 
were  deemed  for  one  reason  or  another  disgraceful. 
Among  these  the  early  Christians  reckoned  the  loan- 
ing of  money  at  interest,  or,  as  it  was  termed,  usury. 
In  other  countries,  as  in  France,  we  find  it  specifi- 
cally required  that  the  Jews  shall  serve  as  money- 
lenders. Thus  a  people  who  by  native  impulse  and 
customary  training  were  fundamentally  soil-tillers 
and  herdsmen,  and  who  evidently  tended  to  be- 
come agriculturists  hi  the  Occidental  countries  to 
which  they  were  driven,  were  forced  to  peculiar 
trades  such  as  peddling,  garbage-picking,  and  lend- 
ing money.  Notwithstanding  their  debased  and  op- 
pressed condition,  the  Spanish  Jews  attained  a 
higher  intellectual  development  than  any  of  their 
compatriots  during  the  Middle  Ages. 

The  incident  of  the  expulsion  of  the  Jews  from 
Spain  is  on  many  accounts  the  most  tragic  of  all  their 
unhappy  experiences  since  the  destruction  of  Jerusa- 
lem. There  is  no  definite  information  as  to  the  num- 
ber of  people  who  were  forced  to  leave  the  country, 
but  it  has  been  reckoned  at  three  hundred  thousand. 
Of  these  about  eighty  thousand  found  a  temporary 
asylum  in  Portugal,  while  the  remainder  were  scat- 
tered nearly  as  widely  as  were  their  ancestors  at  the 
last  destruction  of  the  temple.  Many  were  driven  to 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  93 

Africa ;  some  found  refuge  in  Holland,  including  the 
family  of  the  philosopher  Spinoza ;  but  it  is  likely 
that  a  large  part  of  the  unhappy  folk  perished  in 
their  wanderings  in  search  of  shelter,  which  most 
lands  denied  them.  It  is  some  satisfaction  in  con- 
templating this  miserable  situation  that  the  loss 
Spain  suffered  from  the  banishment  of  this  ablest 
part  of  its  people  proved  to  be  irreplaceable ;  it  was 
even  more  serious  than  that  inflicted  half  a  century 
later  by  the  destruction  of  the  Armada. 

The  history  of  the  Jews  hi  the  several  states  which 
now  constitute  France  is,  hi  effect,  a  repetition  of 
that  which  developed  in  Spain,  with  certain  differ- 
ences due  to  diversities  in  the  temperament  of  the 
people.  In  Spain,  after  the  torment  began,  it  was 
particularly  enhanced  by  the  secular  and  religious 
atrocities  which  continued  for  eight  or  more  centuries 
until  the  final  expulsion  of  the  people.  In  France  the 
outbreaks  came  much  later,  and  though  more  occa- 
sional, were  even  more  atrocious  than  south  of  the 
Pyrenees.  Down  to  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth 
century  the  situation  of  the  Jews  in  France  was,  as 
compared  with  that  in  Spain,  on  the  whole  tolerable. 
In  855  their  expulsion  was  ordered;  but  it  was  not 
effected.  The  Merovingian  kings  repeatedly  under- 
took to  enforce  baptism  on  the  race,  but  these  actions 
were  fitful  and  led  to  no  very  serious  consequences. 


94  THE  NEIGHBOR 

It  was  a  troubled  time,  and  the  Israelites  probably 
had  no  more  than  their  share  of  griefs. 

There  seems  reason  to  believe  that  something  like 
a  reconciliation  between  the  Christians  and  Jews  of 
northern  Europe  was  in  the  eleventh  century  in  pro- 
cess of  accomplishment.  The  resumption  of  perse- 
cution came  with  that  curious  succession  of  national 
excitements,  apparently  hysterical  in  their  nature, 
known  as  the  Crusades,  —  contagions  of  religious  ex- 
citement which  appear  to  be  due  to  the  same  condi- 
tions as  the  well-known  "  revivals."  The  first  of  the 
Crusades,  that  led  by  Godfrey  de  Bouillon,  in  1096, 
spread  devastation  throughout  the  valley  of  the 
Rhine.  The  undisciplined,  insane  hordes  began  their 
conquest  of  the  Holy  Land  by  despoiling  and  slay- 
ing the  Jews  they  encountered.  It  is  estimated  that 
twelve  thousand  were  slain.  From  Tr§ves  to  Prague 
this  ruin  seems  to  have  been  general.  It  does  not 
appear  that  the  local  governments  or  the  native  peo- 
ple of  this  district  shared  hi  these  outrages ;  in  fact, 
it  is  said  that  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne  sheltered 
the  Jews  in  his  castle.  Those  who  took  part  in  this 
crusade  were  in  motive  brigands ;  in  fact,  all  those  ex- 
peditions were  little  better  than  organized  brigand- 
age. 

The  Second  Crusade  renewed  the  attacks  upon  the 
Jews  of  France  and  Germany.  The  Pope  granted  to 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  95 

all  who  joined  in  the  expedition  a  dispensation  from 
their  debts  to  the  money-lenders  of  Jewish  race,  and 
the  preaching  monks  called  for  their  slaughter.  One 
of  the  leaders  of  the  group,  the  Abbe  Pierre  de  Cluny, 
held  that  it  was  not  worth  while  to  go  to  the  end  of 
the  world,  enduring  a  great  loss  of  money  and  men, 
and  to  leave  behind  dwelling  in  peace  other  infidels 
a  thousand  tunes  more  to  blame  for  the  death  of 
Christ  than  the  Mahometans.  Here,  again,  the  mag- 
nates of  the  Church  did  much  to  restrain  the  fury 
awakened  by  such  priests. 
The  Third  Crusade  is  notable  for  the  outbreaks 

against  the  Jews  in  England.  Up  to  that  time  the 
\ 

people  had  been  allowed  to  dwell  peaceably  in  that 
country,  but  when  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion  was 
crowned  (1189)  an  outbreak  began  in  London  and 
spread  widely,  to  Norwich,  Lynn,  and  even  to  York, 
where  five  hundred  were  massacred.  From  the  be- 
ginning of  Coeur  de  Lion's  reign  to  that  of  Edward  I. 
the  Jews  of  England  and  its  continental  provinces 
were  the  subjects  of  much  oppression,  and  in  1290, 
after  a  century  of  suffering,  all  were  driven  out  of 
the  English  realm.  They  were  not  allowed  to  reen- 
ter  the  country  until  the  time  of  Cromwell,  when 
without  formal  abrogation  of  the  law  they  were  per- 
mitted to  return. 
The  condition  of  the  Jews  in  France  remained, 


96  THE  NEIGHBOR 

on  the  whole,  endurable  long  after  the  outbreak 
of  bitter  persecutions  in  more  northern  countries. 
The  intolerance  awakened  by  the  frenzy  of  the  Cru- 
sades appears  to  have  begun  earlier  and  to  have 
been  more  intense  in  England  and  in  Germany  than 
elsewhere,  except,  perhaps,  in  Spain.  When,  how- 
ever, the  persecuting  motive  among  the  French  was 
aroused  in  the  fourteenth  century,  it  quickly  took 
on  the  curious  and  brutal  quality  which  has  so  often 
been  associated  with  the  outbreaks  of  that  people. 
The  events  equal  in  their  horror,  if  they  do  not 
exceed,  those  of  the  Huguenot  massacres,  or  those 
of  the  "Terror"  of  the  eighteenth  century.  They 
serve  to  show,  with  other  like  phenomena,  extending 
over  a  duration  of  about  eight  centuries  and  down 
to  the  present  generation,  that  beneath  the  amiable 
surface  of  this  folk,  there  lies  an  enduring  tiger-like 
cruelty  such  as  has  never  elsewhere  resisted  the 
influences  of  civilization.  I  shall  in  the  sequel  have 
occasion  to  discuss  this  diversity  in  the  rate  of  sur- 
vival of  the  savage  motive,  and  the  conditions  of  its 
resurgence  in  different  peoples.  Just  here  it  is  not 
necessary  to  do  more  than  indicate  the  existence  of 
such  variations ;  and  the  fact  that  this  savage  impulse 
seems  more  ineradicable  among  the  French  than  in 
any  other  variety  of  our  species,  a  very  brief  state- 
ment of  the  more  brutal  occurrences  is  sufficient  to 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  97 

show.  In  the  town  of  Blois  the  whole  of  the  Jewish 
community,  numbering  more  than  fifty  persons,  were 
burned  alive.  In  the  massacre  of  Beziers  hi  the  war 
against  the  Albigenses,  in  which  twenty  thousand 
persons  were  slain,  the  Jews  shared  the  fate  of  the 
dissenting  Christians.  At  Strassburg  two  thousand 
were  burned  on  one  scaffold.  The  worst  of  these 
persecutions  were  due  to  the  notion  that  the  Jews 
were  in  some  way  responsible  for  the  invasion  of  the 
plague  known  as  the  Black  Death.  It  should  be  said 
that  these  persecutions  were  for  a  tune  as  common 
in  southern  Germany  as  in  France.  It  is  the  per- 
manence of  the  state  of  mind  hi  the  latter  country 
that  is  noteworthy. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  follow  hi  more  detail 
the  fearful  record  of  Jewish  persecutions  hi  the 
later  centuries  of  the  so-called  Middle  Ages.  It  may 
be  said  in  brief  that  from  Poland  to  Portugal,  and 
from  Scotland  to  Sicily,  the  people  had  been  slain, 
driven  into  exile,  or  reduced  to  a  state  far  lower 
than  that  to  which  any  other  civilized  folk  has  ever 
been  reduced.  In  all  countries  they  had  been  forced 
to  abandon  agriculture  and  the  mechanic  arts,  and 
to  betake  themselves  to  employments  deemed  igno- 
minious, including  money-lending.  They  were  com- 
pelled to  dwell  in  special  quarters  of  the  larger 
towns,  the  Ghettos,  where,  owing  to  their  fecundity, 


98  THE  NEIGHBOR 

they  lived  closely  packed  in  conditions  so  unsani- 
tary that,  but  for  certain  religious  rules  of  cleanli- 
ness and  an  intense  vitality,  they  probably  would 
have  been  exterminated.  In  this  state  they  were  so 
far  debased  that,  for  a  tune,  even  their  religious  mo- 
tive seemed  hi  danger  of  extinction.  They  developed, 
moreover,  such  mystical  beliefs  as  clearly  denoted  a 
degradation  in  their  mental  estate.  Had  these  con- 
ditions continued  to  the  present  day,  it  seems  likely 
that  the  potency  of  the  race  would  have  been  under- 
mined. The  inexhaustible  spirit  of  this  people  is  well 
shown  by  the  fact  that  whenever  there  came  a  lull  in 
the  storm  which  bent  them  down,  we  find  that  num- 
bers of  them  quickly  rose  to  stations  of  eminence  as 
physicians,  translators,  or  ministers  of  finance,  occu- 
pations which  showed  that  in  the  worst  centuries 
of  their  sufferings  their  ancient  capacity  lingered  in 
the  stock. 

The  change  from  the  mediaeval  to  the  modern  con- 
ditions of  the  Jews  evidently  began  with  the  Re- 
naissance. That  remarkable  movement  of  the  Euro- 
pean spirit  had  for  its  most  important  effect  the 
introduction  of  the  Greek  motive  of  skepticism  con- 
cerning religious  beliefs  which  led  to  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  to  the  development  of  science.  Although 
this  spirit  is  most  evident  hi  literature,  hi  the  writ- 
ings of  men  who  were  more  or  less  parted  from 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  99 

Catholicism,  it  penetrated  all  classes  of  educated 
people,  and  in  time  so  far  affected  the  higher  clergy 
as  to  make  the  atrocities  of  earlier  centuries  well- 
nigh  impossible.  It  should  be  said  that,  with  rare 
exceptions,  the  popes  and  the  magnates  of  the 
Church  had  never  been  leaders  in  the  persecution  of 
the  Jews,  and  in  many  instances  had  determinedly 
struggled  against  its  more  serious  inflictions.  Now 
the  penetrating  motive  of  the  Renaissance  carried 
the  enlargement  far  enough  abroad  to  effect  a  con- 
siderable betterment  in  the  condition  of  this  unhappy 
people.  There  were  no  more  wholesale  slaughter- 
ings of  communities,  no  more  of  the  ravages  such 
as  attended  the  Crusades;  yet  the  laws  and  cus- 
toms which  served  to  debase  the  folk  remained  un- 
changed, and  in  certain  regions  remote  from  the 
centres  of  culture,  as  in  Portugal,  the  auto  da  fe  was 
still  possible  as  late  as  the  eighteenth  century.  But 
there  was  now  a  Montesquieu  to  arraign  the  inquisi- 
tors, and  a  world  of  high-minded  men  to  echo  his 
remonstrance  in  a  way  to  daunt  the  followers  of 
Torquemada. 

The  first  distinct  movement  in  Germany  for  the 
amelioration  of  the  state  of  the  Jews  was  begun 
in  the  seventeenth  century  by  Frederick  William, 
Elector  of  Brandenburg.  He  permitted  certain  Jews 
to  be  educated  in  the  Medical  School  of  Frankfort. 


100  THE  NEIGHBOR 

He  and  his  successor  Frederick,  though  on  the 
whole  retaining  the  ancient  oppressive  laws,  dealt 
gently  with  the  Israelites  and  gave  them  something 
better  than  a  chance  of  mere  existence.  From  this 
Berlin  community  came  Moses  Mendelssohn,  who 
was,  in  the  manner  of  the  prophets,  to  lead  his  peo- 
ple to  better  days.  Although  there  had  been  philoso- 
phers of  fame  who  were  Jews  before  Mendelssohn, 
none  other  had  come  at  a  time,  or  with  the  capa- 
city, to  enter  into  close  intellectual  relations  with 
the  Christian  world.  His  eminent  ability  and  his 
personal  qualities  together  gave  him  a  very  high 
place  among  German  men  of  learning,  and  his  inti- 
mate friendship  with  Lessing  helped  him  to  gain 
a  hearing  such  as  no  Jew  had  won  in  seventeen 
Christian  centuries.  The  most  striking  and  impor- 
tant effect  of  Mendelssohn's  work  and  that  of  his 
friend  of  Christian  origin,  Lessing,  was  the  awaken- 
ing of  the  Jews  of  Germany  to  a  sense  of  their  capa- 
city. Hitherto  their  sufferings  had  not  been  set  be- 
fore their  tormentors,  they  had  endured  in  silence. 
In  the  school  of  Mendelssohn  are  to  be  counted 
many  men  who  were  hardly  heard ;  though  at  first 
to  no  sensible  effect,  their  influence  was  hi  tune  po- 
tent for  good. 

The  first  step  in  the  legal  emancipation  of  the 
Jews  came  in  France  at  the  tune  of  the  Revolution. 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  101 

Except  in  Alsace  and  Lorraine,  the  last  edict  of  ban- 
ishment remained  in  effect ;  but  the  Jews,  after  their 
final  expulsion  from  the  rest  of  France,  had  been 
allowed  to  remain  in  those  provinces,  and  also  at 
Bordeaux  and  hi  the  colonies  of  the  West  Indies. 
After  much  debate,  the  Assembly,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Mirabeau,  but  with  the  support  of  all  the 
higher  spirits  of  the  time,  gave  them  the  full  rights 
of  citizens.  Like  many  another  reform  hi  France  or 
elsewhere,  the  results  of  the  law  were  for  a  time 
imperfect.  During  the  "Terror"  the  Jews  were 
subjected  to  pillage.  Under  Bonaparte  their  faith 
was  denied  the  recognition  given  to  that  of  Catho- 
lics or  Protestants.  Nevertheless,  at  the  end  of  the 
struggle  justice  prevailed,  and,  for  the  first  time 
since  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  the  people  dwelt 
hi  a  European  state,  subjected  to  the  same  laws  as 
their  fellow-citizens  of  the  newer  faith. 

The  example  of  France  in  emancipating  the  Jews 
was  hi  tune  substantially  followed  by  all  the  states 
of  western  Europe,  so  that  with  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century  the  legal  oppression  of  the 
Jews  may  be  said  to  have  come  to  an  end.  Some  limi- 
tations of  rights  continued,  but  they  were  hi  nature 
trifling  as  compared  with  those  which  had  existed 
for  near  two  thousand  years.  Since  the  decree  of 
the  Assembly  the  question  has  been,  not  as  to  the 


102  THE  NEIGHBOR 

legal  status  of  the  people  in  the  states  of  western 
Europe,  but  as  to  their  social  station  and  the  condi- 
tions of  their  contacts  with  the  Christian  folk  with 
whom  they  dwelt.  It  may  be  said  hi  general  that 
the  betterment  of  the  statutes  helped  hi  no  consid- 
erable degree  the  social  station  of  the  Israelites.  It 
protected  them  hi  a  measure  from  outrages  done 
under  the  color  of  law,  it  gave  them  the  rights  of 
citizens,  but  it  gave  them  none  of  the  privileges  of 
the  societies  hi  which  they  dwelt.  The  gain  they  had 
made  was  due  to  the  rational  motives  of  their  some- 
time masters  and  not  to  any  diminution  of  the  in- 
stinctive prejudices  which  they  have  had  to  meet  in 
their  contacts  with  Occidental  peoples.  In  fact,  the 
instinctive  dislike  which  fences  the  Jews  from  their 
fellow-citizens  of  the  newer  faith  appeared  for  some 
time  after  their  legal  emancipation  rather  to  increase 
than  to  diminish. 

The  gain  hi  social  status  which  the  Jews  have 
made  since  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
has  been  mainly  due  to  the  capacity  of  the  people  to 
win  eminence  hi  their  modern  calling  of  money- 
lending,  hi  the  scientific  professions,  and  hi  general 
commerce.  In  these  fields  of  action  Germany,  France, 
England,  and  the  United  States  have  afforded  them 
large  opportunities  for  winning  past  the  ancient  limi- 
tations. The  result  has  been  that  a  host  of  individ- 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  103 

uals  have  escaped  from  the  moral  Ghetto  in  which 
their  race  has  been  so  long  imprisoned.  In  certain 
communities,  as  in  the  southern  part  of  the  United 
States,  where  the  Jewish  people  consisted  almost  en- 
tirely of  educated  folk  who  had,  in  a  great  measure, 
parted  from  their  race,  they  have  been  accepted  as 
social  equals.  Yet  the  startling  fact  remains  that, 
after  a  hundred  years  of  emancipation,  and  a  phe- 
nomenal success  in  nearly  all  branches  of  high  intel- 
lectual and  citizenly  endeavor,  the  instinctive  dislike 
to  the  folk  on  the  part  of  the  Christians  appears  to 
be  lessened  to  no  appreciable  extent.  We  thus  have 
presented  to  us  the  most  remarkable  ethnic  phe- 
nomena that  have  been  developed  in  history.  How 
extraordinary  may  be  judged  by  a  brief  review  of 
the  situation. 

Although  the  foregoing  very  inadequate  sketch  of 
the  persecutions  which  have  been  inflicted  on  the 
Jews  is  quite  insufficient  to  set  forth  what  is  re- 
corded of  the  sufferings  of  that  unhappy  people,  it 
may,  with  the  help  of  the  reader's  imagination,  en- 
able him  to  form  some  conception  of  this  most  star- 
tling series  of  events  in  the  history  of  man.  What 
is  of  record,  if  compactly  set  forth,  would  doubt- 
less fill  several  volumes  of  greater  bulk  than  this, 
though  limited  to  a  brief  recital  of  the  executions, 


104  THE  NEIGHBOR 

murders,  pillages,  and  expatriations  of  such  mag- 
nitude as  could  fitly  be  classed  with  the  recent 
Turkish  outrages  in  Armenia  or  the  massacres  of 
Russia  which  shocked  the  civilized  world.  This  his- 
tory would  need  to  be  supplemented  by  the  vaster, 
unrecorded  sum  of  ills,  the  day  by  day  inflictions 
of  wrong  of  which  either  the  chroniclers  have  taken 
no  account,  or  the  records  of  them  have  perished. 
We  have  to  conceive  of  this  unhappy  people,  for 
all  their  ability,  and  it  is  certainly  greater  than  that 
exhibited  by  any  other,  living  as  Pariahs,  the  sub- 
jects of  unending  outrages  which  shame  every  Euro- 
pean state — which  shame  the  very  name  of  man. 
The  most  important  question  in  this  inquiry  is  to 
the  meaning  of  these  events,  the  source  of  the  mo- 
tives which  have  led  to  them. 

The  common  opinion  as  to  the  origin  of  the  Jew- 
ish persecutions  is  that  they  are  due  to  religious 
prejudices  alone.  The  fact  that  Christ  was  crucified 
by  the  forefathers  of  the  Israelites  has,  it  is  true, 
been  again  and  again  used  as  a  war-cry  by  the  com- 
mon folk ;  but  it  has  never  appeared  to  have  much 
weight  with  the  leaders  among  the  Christians.  Dull 
as  we  may  believe  men  to  be,  it  is  inconceivable 
that  any  above  the  unthinking  herd  could  have  held 
to  this  reason  for  a  hatred  which  is  shown  to  be  irra- 
tional by  the  tenet  of  the  Church  that  Christ  was 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  105 

foreordained  thus  to  suffer,  that  his  mission  could  not 
have  been  accomplished  without  the  unhappy  share 
which  his  fellows  of  the  orthodox  Jewish  faith  were 
fated  to  have  in  his  death.  Some  have  held  that  we 
have  in  this  history  an  example  of  the  curious  pas- 
sion for  the  integrity  and  power  of  a  people's  God, 
that  the  trouble  has  come  from  the  curious  tangle  of 
prejudices  which  we  term  religious.  The  incomplete- 
ness of  these  explanations  at  once  appears  when 
we  consider  the  pre-Christian  stages  of  this  history. 
We  have  seen  that  the  Hellenes  as  well  as  the  Ro- 
mans, even  before  the  sect  of  Christians  was  known 
to  them,  were  moved  to  a  like  hatred  of  the  Jews. 
Every  important  incident  in  the  unhappy  relations 
of  the  Christian  folk  to  the  Israelites  was  paralleled 
in  the  pagan  centuries  of  Rome  that  followed  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem.  That  the  Roman's  hatred 
of  the  Jews  was  not  due  to  any  prejudice  against 
foreigners,  or  those  of  alien  faith,  is  shown  by  their 
accord  with  Egyptians  and  Pho3nicians,  hi  fact,  as 
before  remarked,  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men.  The  struggle  with  Carthage  had  been  far 
bitterer  and  more  costly  than  that  with  Judea,  yet 
they  dealt  with  the  conquered  remnant  of  that  Afri- 
can people  in  the  Roman  business-like  way.  No  one 
can  go  over  the  records  which  exhibit  their  state  of 
mind  towards  the  Jews  hi  the  seven  centuries  of 


106  THE  NEIGHBOR 

contact  with  them  and  fail  to  see  that  something 
else  than  religious  prejudice  was  at  the  foundation 
of  the  hatred  which  such  men  as  Tacitus  bore  to 
them. 

There  is  still  another  gauge  which  serves  to  give 
us  an  approximate  measurement  of  the  value  of  the 
religious  motive  in  determining  the  social  status  of 
the  Jews.  This  is  found  in  the  recent  outbreak  of 
hatred  of  the  race  in  Germany,  France,  and  hi  less 
degree,  yet  evidently,  in  the  United  States ;  traces 
of  the  movement  appear  also  in  other  countries. 
Twenty  years  ago  there  were  fair  grounds  for  be- 
lieving that  the  relations  between  the  two  races 
were  near  to  a  satisfactory  adjustment  in  all  civi- 
lized countries  except  Russia,  and  that  the  begin- 
ning of  the  twentieth  century  would  end  the  two 
millenniums  of  shame.  But  in  the  last  decade  there 
has  been  a  startling  revival  of  the  ancient  humor. 
In  Germany,  the  effort  to  embody  in  laws  this  reac- 
tionary motive  has  so  far  failed  of  success,  but  the 
social  barriers  between  the  people  who  have  a  share 
of  Jewish  blood,  whether  of  that  faith  or  no,  and 
the  other  Germans  are  much  stronger  than  they 
were  in  the  earlier  decades  of  the  last  century.  It  is 
hardly  too  much  to  say  that  the  prejudice  is  twice 
as  Intense  as  it  was  then.  The  French  who  took 
part  in  this  singular  movement,  at  least  the  intel- 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  107 

lectual  leaders  of  the  mob,  are  about  as  separated 
from  Christianity  as  were  Tacitus  or  Rutilius,  yet 
in  the  manner  of  those  worthy  pagans  they  show 
a  deep-seated  and  brutal  hatred  of  a  people  from 
whom  they  could  have  received  no  serious  harm. 
Thus  we  see  that  the  basis  of  the  ancient  dislike 
of  the  Aryan  for  the  Israelite  has  not  been  due 
essentially,  or  in  any  effective  measure,  to  differ- 
ences hi  religious  belief,  but  rests  upon  some  more 
fundamental  basis  of  discord. 

Recognizing,  as  I  long  have  done,  that  the  preju- 
dice which  parts  these  races  is  not  founded  on  differ- 
ences of  faith,  I  have  endeavored  of  late  to  note  in 
my  personal  experience,  and  through  that  of  many 
of  my  associates,  the  phenomena  of  contact  between 
the  two  peoples  which  gave  rise  to  this  dislike.  It 
seemed  to  me  a  fan*  hypothesis  that  the  trouble  is 
attributable  mainly  to  something  which  takes  place 
in  the  intercourse  between  the  individuals  of  the 
diverse  stocks.  This  is  shown  to  be  eminently  prob- 
able by  the  facts  hereafter  to  be  recounted  con- 
cerning the  contacts  between  the  whites  and  blacks 
of  this  country,  where  we  have  excellent  examples 
of  the  repugnance  which  arises  when  folk  of  very 
diverse  aspect  come  together.  At  first,  I  sought  to 
explain  the  situation  by  examining  into  my  own 
state  of  mind  when  brought  into  relations,  as  I 


108  THE  NEIGHBOR 

frequently  am,  with  Jews.  I  found,  however,  that 
while  there  seemed  at  first  to  be  some  slight  trace 
of  an  adverse  mental  attitude  on  my  part  towards 
these  people  when  I  came  into  personal  intercourse 
with  them,  the  state  of  mind  was  partly  due  to  the 
curiosity  aroused  by  my  inquiry  which,  for  the 
moment,  denied  me  the  natural  sympathetic  forth- 
going  to  the  neighbor.  In  other  words,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  I  had  so  far  won  past  the  original  state  of 
prejudice  which  once  was  strong,  that  I  could  not 
observe  in  myself  the  features  which  I  wished  to 
inquire  into.  I  therefore  selected  two  score  of  my 
friends  whose  testimony  seemed  likely  to  be  valua- 
ble, and  asked  them  to  note  with  care  their  states  of 
mind  when  they  were  brought  into  what  should 
be  neighborly  relations  with  Jews,  comparing  their 
emotions  with  those  that  were  awakened  by  like  in- 
tercourse with  persons  of  similar  general  quality 
who  were  members  of  their  own  race. 

The  result  of  the  above  inquiry,  insufficient  as  it 
has  been,  distinctly  indicates  that  there  is  something 
very  generally  felt  by  people  of  the  Aryan  race  hi 
their  contact  with  the  Israelites  which  is  peculiar. 
All  save  one  of  these  witnesses  agree  in  the  state- 
ment that  whenever  the  Semitic  quality  is  evident 
enough  to  identify  the  person  with  that  people,  they 
experience  a  certain  definite  repulsion.  In  almost 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  109 

all  cases  they  are  sure  that  this  feeling  is  not  due 
to  the  fact  that  they  are  infected  by  the  custom- 
ary prejudice,  they  believe  it  to  be  an  impression 
awakened  by  the  particular  contact ;  all  agree  that 
this  impression  differs  from  that  which  is  made  by 
persons  of  their  own  race  of  like  social  condition.  It 
is  less  clear,  yet  I  think  evident,  that  my  helpers 
generally  have  a  somewhat  like  experience  when 
they  come  in  contact  with  persons  of  any  very  alien 
stock,  as  with  American  Indians,  or,  where  they  are 
unused  to  them,  with  Negroes.  Only  in  the  case  of 
other  races  there  is  less  repugnance,  or,  perhaps,  no 
definite  sense  of  it,  aroused  by  the  contact,  while 
they  all  substantially  agree  that  there  is  some  share 
of  this  feeling  towards  the  Jews  which  is  aroused  at 
the  time  when  they  hold  converse  with  them. 

I  have  been  tempted  to  submit  the  question  as  to 
this  spontaneous  or  instinctive  contact  dislike  to  a 
more  extended  statistical  inquiry,  but  have  deemed 
it  best  not  to  do  so  for  several  reasons.  In  the  first 
place,  the  results  would  not  have  even  indicative 
value  unless  the  statistician  knew  well  the  quality 
of  the  persons  from  whom  he  sought  help.  Any  wide 
extension  of  the  inquiry  would  do  no  more  than 
prove  that  the  Jews  were  generally  disliked,  and 
that,  unhappily,  does  not  need  proof.  In  the  second 
place,  my  experience  has  shown  me,  what  hardly 


110  THE  NEIGHBOR 

needed  to  be  proved,  that  very  few  persons  are  able, 
in  the  naturally  and  fitly  absorbing  conditions  of 
human  intercourse,  to  note  their  feelings  in  the  man- 
ner needed  in  this  investigation.  There  is,  indeed, 
something  unpleasantly  near  debasement  in  the  pro- 
cess. Lastly,  I  have  found  that  it  was  only  by  much 
questioning  that  I  was  able  to  bring  out  the  infor- 
mation I  needed.  Therefore,  while  the  results  of 
this  inquiry  lack  the  numerical  accumulation  which 
might  easily  have  been  given  by  a  more  extended 
process,  they  seem  to  me  to  have  distinct  value  in 
suggesting  at  least  some  of  the  reasons  for  this  dis- 
like of  the  Aryan  for  the  Semitic  people. 

The  greater  number  of  those  who  have  helped  me 
as  observers  in  this  inquiry  note  that  there  is  on 
contact  with  those  who  are  characteristic  Jews  a  dis- 
tinct and  peculiar  state  of  mind  aroused  by  the  in- 
tercourse. They  are  conscious  that  the  feeling  is 
other  than  what  they  experience  when  they  meet 
those  of  their  own  race,  but  there  is,  as  might  be 
expected,  no  clear  agreement  as  to  the  precise  nature 
of  the  impression.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
gather,  the  state  is  emotional  and  instinctive,  being 
in  effect  the  same  as  that  which  is  always  excited  by 
contact  of  racially  different  men.  To  support  and 
explain  this  primitive  emotion  there  is  a  natural  ef- 
fort to  find  some  peculiarities  of  aspect  or  demeanor 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  111 

in  the  neighbor.  As  to  what  these  idiosyncrasies  are 
there  is  a  considerable  difference  of  opinion.  The 
greater  number  of  the  observers  agree  that  there  is 
a  failure  on  the  part  of  the  Jews  to  respond  in  like 
temper  to  the  greeting  which  they  send  them ;  they 
agree  further  that  there  is  generally  a  sense  of  avid- 
ity, a  sense  of  the  presence  of  a  seeking  in  the  Jew 
for  immediate  profit,  a  desire  to  win  at  once  some  ad- 
vantage from  the  situation  such  as  is  not  immediately 
disclosed,  however  clear  it  might  be  in  the  mind  of 
an  interlocutor  of  his  own  race.  Several  have  stated 
that  the  offense  came  from  a  feeling  that  the  Jew 
neighbor  was  smarter  than  themselves,  having  keener 
wits  and  a  mind  more  intent  on  gainful  ends.  Others 
state  that  the  Israelitic  spirit  makes  a  much  swifter 
response  to  the  greeting  the  stranger  gives  them 
than  the  Aryan,  and  that  the  acquaintance  is  forced 
in  such  an  irritating  manner  as  to  breed  dislike. 

This  last  noted  feature  in  the  contact  phenomena 
of  Israelites  and  Aryans  appears  to  me  a  matter  of 
much  importance,  especially  as  it  accords  with  my 
own  experience  and  with  observations  formed  long 
before  I  began  to  devise  and  criticise  theories  on  this 
subject.  As  one  of  the  Deans  of  Harvard  University 
I  have  been  for  ten  years  in  a  position  where  I  have 
to  meet  from  year  to  year  a  number  of  young  He- 
brews. It  has  been  evident  to  me  from  the  first  that 


112  THE  NEIGHBOR 

these  youths  normally  respond  much  more  swiftly  to 
my  greeting  than  those  of  my  own  race,  and  that 
they  divine  and  act  on  my  state  of  mind  with  far 
greater  celerity.  They  are,  in  fact,  so  quick  that 
they  are  often  where  I  am  in  my  slower  way  about  to 
be  before  I  am  really  there ;  this  would  make  them 
at  tunes  seem  irritating,  indeed,  presumptuous,  were 
it  not  interesting  to  me  from  a  racial  point  of  view. 
To  those  who  are  hi  no  wise  concerned  with  such 
questions  this  alacrity  is  naturally  exasperating, 
especially  when  the  movement  is  not  only  of  the  wits 
but  of  the  sympathies.  We  all  know  how  disagree- 
able it  is  to  have  the  neighbor  call  on  us  for  some 
kind  of  affectionate  response  before  we  are  ready  to 
be  moved,  and  how  certain  is  such  a  summons  to 
dry  the  springs  which  else  might  have  yielded  abun- 
dantly. In  our  slow  Aryan  way  we  demand  an  in- 
troductory process  on  the  part  of  the  fellow-man 
who  would  successfully  appeal  to  our  emotions.  Our 
orators  know  this  and  provide  ample  exordiums  for 
their  moving  passages ;  none  ventures  in  the  manner 
of  the  Hebrew  prophet  to  assume  that  his  hearers 
will  awaken  at  a  cry. 

In  observations  made  for  me  by  young  men,  stu- 
dents in  Harvard  College,  and  thus  under  my  own 
eyes,  so  to  speak,  I  have  confirmation  of  the  hypo- 
thesis that  an  important  part  of  the  difficulty  of 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  113 

social  contact  between  these  diverse  people  is  due 
to  the  difference  in  the  way  hi  which  their  minds 
work  when  they  come  together.  It  is  an  unhappy 
fact  that  the  last  wave  of  anti-Semiticism,  that  which 
led  to  the  semblance  of  persecution  hi  Germany  and 
to  the  abominations  of  the  Dreyfus  incident  in 
France,  swept  across  the  Atlantic  and  affected  to  a 
considerable  extent  the  social  position  of  the  Jews 
in  the  United  States.  They  became  unwelcome  in 
clubs  and  hi  hotels;  their  daughters  were  not  ad- 
mitted to  certain  private  schools:  and  hi  various 
ways  the  unhappy  people  were  made  to  feel  the 
ancient  burden  as  in  this  country  it  had  not  come 
upon  them  before.  Of  this  resurgence  of  dislike 
the  Hebrew  students  in  Harvard  College  had  some, 
though  not  a  serious,  share.  Thirty  years  ago,  when 
the  Jews  first  began  to  be  an  appreciable  element 
among  the  students  of  this  University,  there  was  no 
evidence  whatever  of  dislike  to  them.  They  took 
their  place  among  their  mates  with  no  reference  to 
their  race ;  that,  indeed,  seemed  so  far  as  I  could  dis- 
cern to  be  quite  unnoted.  Following  on  the  last  Eu- 
ropean epidemic  of  hatred  to  the  Israelites  there  has 
developed  among  this  body  of  students  an  evident  dis- 
like for  their  fellows  of  that  race.  The  feeling  is  by  no 
means  universal  or  intense ;  it  is  condemned  by  the 
greater  part  of  the  leaders  of  opinion  among  these 


114  THE  NEIGHBOR 

young  men ;  yet  it  is  sufficient  to  be  noticeable  and 
to  awaken  keen  regret  in  all  those  who  love  the  cath-  . 
olio  and  humane  motive  which  so  long  has  inspired 
that  school.  One  of  my  helpers  in  the  effort  to  find 
the  reason  for  this  state  of  mind  summed  up  his 
acute  observations  in  the  statement  that  when  one 
spoke  to  a  Jew  kindly  "  the  fellow  climbed  all  over 
you."  Examining  into  this  statement  I  found  that  it 
showed,  as  my  own  experience  had  done,  that  very 
swift  response  of  the  Hebrew  to  a  greeting  which  is 
so  well  fitted  to  shock  the  slower  wits  of  the  Aryan. 
I  have  elsewhere,  and  in  this  book,  noted  certain 
of  the  racial  conditions  which  serve  to  influence  and 
determine  social  contact.  The  matter  is  of  such  mo- 
ment that  it  may  be  said  again  in  brief  that  the  way 
in  which  the  neighbor  meets  us  when  we  greet  him 
is  of  exceeding  importance.  Every  such  meeting  is 
a  psychological  crisis  by  which  all  the  subsequent 
relations  of  the  persons  are  likely  to  be  shaped. 
We  have  only  to  observe  our  daily  social  experiences 
to  see  that,  in  this  instant  of  meeting,  judgments 
are  necessarily  and  intuitively  formed  which  guide 
all  our  subsequent  conduct  as  regards  the  persons 
whom  they  concern.  In  our  further  intercourse 
we  may  more  or  less  deliberately  modify  this  first 
impression,  but  with  most  men  as  with  the  lower 
animals,  especially  in  the  case  of  dogs,  this  almost 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  115 

automatic  and  curiously  swift  decision  as  to  liking 
or  disliking  made  at  the  moment  of  contact  is  essen- 
tially unchangeable.  This  curious  feature  of  inter- 
course between  individuals,  brutes  as  well  as  men, 
probably  owes  its  origin,  as  also  its  swiftness  and 
intensity,  to  certain  primitive  and  compelling  needs. 
It  was  evidently  necessary  to  the  life  of  all  the  an- 
cestors of  man,  creatures  which  were  always  in  the 
presence  of  enemies,  that  they  formed  swift  judg- 
ments concerning  other  beings  who  could  harm  or 
help  them.  The  decision  had  to  be  quickly  made  and 
acted  on.  The  action  served  to  stamp  the  judgment 
on  the  mind  so  that  a  renewal  of  the  experience 
reawakened  the  original  emotions.  This  condition, 
together  with  the  quality  of  mind  in  its  prehuman 
and  human  stages  which  requires  the  classification 
of  all  objects,  will  account  for  the  inveterate  quality 
of  those  opinions  which  we  form  of  the  neighbor 
when  we  first  come  to  take  account  of  him. 

Turning  again  to  the  question  of  what  it  is  that  is 
presented  by  the  Jew  to  his  Aryan  brother  at  the 
moment  of  contact,  let  us  see  if  we  can  come  any 
nearer  to  the  solution  of  the  problem  by  a  deliberate 
presentation  of  the  facts  as  they  are  indicated  hi 
literature  and  by  the  observations  which  I  have  en- 
deavored to  make.  Let  us  in  the  beginning  state 
what  will  have  to  be  admitted  by  all  who  hate  the 


116  THE  NEIGHBOR 

Jews,  provided  that  those  peculiar  persons  are  able 
to  form  an  honest  opinion  concerning  the  actual 
qualities  of  the  people.  The  first  of  these  facts  as  to 
the  quality  of  the  Jews  is  that  they  are  clearly  the 
ablest  folk  the  world  has  ever  known.  The  Athe- 
nians for  four  centuries  surpassed  them,  but  no  other 
stock  has  ever  for  one  thousand  years  maintained 
anything  like  the  mental  estate  which  the  Hebrews 
have  held  for  several  times  as  long  throughout  the 
direst  afflictions.  They  are  of  abiding  moral  quality 
in  the  larger  sense  of  the  term,  for  to  them  the  rul- 
ing peoples  of  the  world  largely  owe  their  guidance 
in  conduct,  and  to  their  own  canons  they  have  held 
more  firmly  than  any  other  race  has  ever  held  to  a 
faith.  They  are  very  humane,  as  is  proved  by  the  help 
they  give  each  other,  the  good  help  that  has  enabled 
them  to  live  through  the  ages  of  torment  they  have 
endured.  That  this  motive  is  not  limited  to  their 
own  race  is  proved  beyond  peradventure  by  their 
wide-ranging  charity  to  those  from  whom  they  have 
received  nothing  but  evil.  It  is,  indeed,  evident  that 
when  we  meet  our  neighbor  in  a  Jew  the  chance 
is  that  he  is  an  able,  trustworthy  man.  How,  then, 
does  it  come  about  that  to  ninety-nine  of  the  hun- 
dred of  our  race  the  Israelites  are  in  some  measure 
abhorrent? 
Examining  into  the  physical  aspect  of  the  Jews 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  117 

we  find  there  nothing  sufficient  to  account  for  this 
strange  instinctive  dislike  that  has  been  evident  for 
more  than  twenty  centuries.  There  is  a  quality  in 
the  features  and  in  then*  expression  which  is  marked 
and  curiously  universal,  so  that  while  the  percen- 
tage of  Hebrew  blood  hi  the  so-called  Jews  of  Ger- 
many and  elsewhere  is  probably  not  large,  it  gives 
an  impress  to  the  countenance  which  is  quite  un- 
mistakable. It  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  misfortunes  of 
these  people  that  they  are  so  easily  identified  that 
the  face  is  as  a  hostile  flag  tending  to  arouse  pre- 
judices against  them.  Yet  when  we  dispassionately 
examine  their  aspect  we  find  there  one  of  the  shape- 
lier varieties  of  our  kind.  Their  countenances  are 
more  prevailingly  intellectual  and  to  my  eye  kind- 
lier than  the  average  of  those  we  see  in  the  Aryan 
race.  The  voice  is  good,  —  it  usually  carries  more  in 
its  tones  than  our  own.  In  the  lowlier,  those  who 
have  felt  the  hand  of  oppression,  there  is  often  a  fur- 
tive look,  but  on  the  average  there  is  as  much  good 
human  quality  in  their  expression  as  I  find  in  any 
other  race.  Comparing  their  physical  quality  with 
that  of  our  own  race  we  see  that  they  are  certainly 
nearer  to  ourselves  than  the  people  of  any  other 
stock.  Thus  while  one  might  expect  some  trace  of 
the  inter-tribal  repugnance  which  is  a  part  of  man's 
inheritance  from  the  brute  and  brutal  man,  it  should 


118  THE  NEIGHBOR 

be  at  its  minimum  in  this  contact  between  Jew  and 
Aryan ;  it  should  certainly  be  much  less  than  that 
which  we  experience  in  meeting  Africans  or  Ameri- 
can Indians,  and  we  know  well  that  in  those  in- 
stances it  is  easily  won  by  and  disregarded.  It  is 
evident  that  it  is  not  the  physique  of  the  Jew  that 
makes  the  bar  between  his  race  and  our  own. 

Recurring  to  the  contact  impressions  which  the 
Hebrew  makes  upon  his  Aryan  neighbor,  let  us  see, 
if  we  may,  if  these  can  be  subjected  to  any  further 
analysis.  First  of  these  we  may  note  the  ancient 
charge  of  servility  mingled  with  the  desire  to  clutch 
at  any  profit  which  he  may  win  from  his  fellow-man. 
While  the  Jews  were  much  oppressed  it  is  likely 
that  this  attitude  may  have  been  one  of  their  char- 
acteristics, but  it  is  not  so  now,  rather  the  reverse, 
for  when  relieved  from  all  legal  oppression  their  na- 
tive strength  naturally  tends  to  make  them  self-asser- 
tive. This  combined  with  the  swiftness  of  their  wits, 
with  what  we  may  term  their  rate  of  thought,  brings 
about  the  froward  quality  they  are  apt  to  exhibit  at 
first  contact  with  their  alien  neighbors,  the  quality 
which,  I  am  convinced,  is  the  most  important  ele- 
ment in  arousing  our  dislike  to  them.  Along  with 
this  difficulty  arising  from  the  mental  alacrity  of  the 
Hebrew  goes  the  gainful  motive  which  is  highly  de- 
veloped in  them.  I  do  not  think  that  this  motive  is 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  119 

less  developed  in  the  average  Aryan,  but  our  con- 
ventional mode  of  thought  prescribes  that  it  shall 
not  be  evident  in  the  first  stages  of  intercourse  and 
that  in  general  it  shall  be  kept  apart  from  social 
relations.  We  have  a  convention  that  the  counting- 
room  humor  shall  be  kept  out  of  the  household  or 
other  places  where  friendliness  should  rule,  or  if  it 
be  not  thus  limited  that  it  shall  be  well  dissembled. 
It  is  otherwise  with  the  Jew ;  even  hi  the  time  of 
his  national  prosperity  the  trade  spirit  was  mingled 
with  more  serious  matters.  It  is  apparent  hi  his 
religion,  where  he  has  evidently  a  sense  of  doing 
business  with  the  Lord  as  party  of  the  second  part 
in  an  ancient  contract.  The  motive  has  probably 
been  intensified  by  ages  of  life  in  which  contriving 
for  safety  has  had  to  be  incessant ;  where  the  man 
who  was  not  always  intent  on  the  chances  of  life 
was  likely  to  perish. 

It  appears  to  me  from  my  own  observations,  from 
those  of  the  selected  persons  who  have  aided  me, 
as  well  as  from  the  history  of  the  Jews,  that  their 
minds  work  in  a  somewhat  different  manner  from 
our  own.  Our  habit  is  to  separate  the  fields  of  ac- 
tion so  that  we  have  a  limited  field  for  preliminary 
intercourse  with  men,  another  for  business  relations, 
yet  another  wherein  the  sympathies  may  enter. 
With  the  Hebrew  all  the  man's  work  is  done  in  one 


120  THE  NEIGHBOR 

field  and  all  together ;  he  is  at  the  same  time  friend, 
trader,  and  citizen,  all  of  his  parts  working  simulta- 
neously. There  is  a  basis  for  much  friction  in  this 
diversity  of  mental  habit.  We  are  naturally  offended 
to  find  the  business  motive  mingled  with  affections, 
for  the  excellent  reason  that  it  is  not  our  way  to  do 
this ;  therefore  it  appears  out  of  the  natural  order ; 
were  we  to  change  nature  with  the  Jew  the  offense 
would  be  none  the  less. 

In  considering  the  contact  phenomena  of  Aryan 
and  Israelite,  we  should  note  the  important  fact, 
hitherto  unremarked,  that  the  latter  people  have  not 
to  any  great  degree  that  imitative  faculty  which  is  so 
generally  developed  hi  the  lower  races  of  man.  This 
faculty  appears  to  lessen  hi  the  higher  grade  stocks. 
Although  certain  persons  with  Jew  blood  in  their 
veins  have  attained  distinction  as  actors,  the  race  as  a 
whole  is  evidently  incapable  of  attaining  to  such  ac- 
commodation of  manner  as  has  so  often  helped  to  re- 
concile captive  peoples  to  their  conquerors.  The  fact 
is  that  they  are  most  incapable  of  subjection,  being  in 
this  regard  even  more  obdurate  than  the  American 
Indian  or  the  Chinese.  The  reason  of  this  quality, 
as  has  been  suggested,  is  probably  to  be  found  in 
the  autonomic  character  of  the  Hebrew  mind  which, 
more  than  that  of  any  other  race,  perhaps,  appears 
to  be  of  an  essentially  inflexible  nature.  For  more 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  121 

than  twenty  centuries  the  most  dominating  peoples 
of  the  world  have  endeavored  to  subject  the  race 
of  Israel  so  that  they  would  fit  hi  some  practicable 
way  into  the  mould  of  Aryan  civilization.  Every  im- 
aginable resource  and  all  the  energy  that  could  be 
applied  hi  the  task  have  left  this  people  unchanged. 
It  is  instructive  to  contrast  the  lack  of  a  tendency 
to  imitation  hi  the  Jews  with  the  excess  of  it  among 
the  American  Africans.  Although  I  have  watched 
Jews  closely  for  many  years,  I  have  never  seen  in 
them  the  least  disposition  to  adapt  themselves  to 
their  neighbors  as  a  Negro  quickly  and  instinctively 
does.  The  black  man  at  once  becomes  the  mirror  of 
his  superior  whether  the  man  above  him  is  his 
master  or  no.  He  so  naturally  imitates  the  tones, 
gestures,  and  even  the  superficial  aspects  of  thought 
of  our  race,  that  those  alone  who  have  taken  pains 
to  search  behind  the  sympathetic  mask  perceive 
that  he  is  not  a  white  man  in  a  black  skin,  but  that 
his  deeper  nature  in  many  and  most  important  re- 
gards is  profoundly  different  from  all  the  other  peo- 
ples with  whom  we  have  ultimate  relations.  This 
spontaneous  imitative  humor  has  stood  the  Negroes 
in  good  stead.  It  has  enabled  them  to  win  past  the 
original  antipathy  which  their  physical  peculiarities 
tend  to  arouse  in  vastly  greater  measure  than  those 
of  the  Hebrews,  and  to  make  the  whites  who  are 


122  THE  NEIGHBOR 

accustomed  to  them  their  friends.  This  curious  iden- 
tification, the  most  complete  that  has  ever  taken 
place  between  two  widely  parted  stocks,  is  clearly 
due  to  the  unpremeditated  and  singularly  well-ac- 
complished adoption  by  the  Negroes  of  the  white 
man's  ways. 

The  most  remarkable  part  of  the  Negro's  success 
in  adjusting  his  thought  scale  to  that  of  his  Aryan 
masters  is  to  be  noted  in  his  contact  with  his  neigh- 
bors. He  has  managed  to  bring  himself  into  a  state 
of  mind  which  perfectly  reproduces  that  half-merry, 
half -solemn  manner  with  which  we  habitually  meet 
the  neighbor  of  our  race.  I  have  never  seen  the 
African  on  his  own  continent,  but  from  what  I  have 
known  of  the  new-comers  of  the  race  hi  the  later  im- 
portations of  slaves  into  the  southern  United  States 
and  Cuba,  it  appears  evident  that  this  is  not  a  natu- 
ral but  an  acquired  quality.  Just  after  the  Civil 
War,  I  had,  while  engaged  in  some  work  for  the 
Government  about  the  sea  islands  of  Georgia  and 
South  Carolina,  a  row-boat  crew  of  five  men  who 
had  been  brought  from  Africa  a  few  years  before. 
Their  manner  was  entirely  different  from  that  of 
their  people  who  had  been  for  generations  with  us ; 
they  were  distinctly  wild  men.  It  was  difficult  to 
form  or  keep  any  sympathetic  relations  with  them. 
All  my  contacts  with  them  were  abrupt.  There  was 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  123 

no  common  ground  of  intercourse,  but  a  sense  of  a 
gulf  that  kept  us  apart.  The  contrast  between  my 
relations  with  these  people  and  those  I  had  with  the 
completely  naturalized  blacks  was  very  great  and 
eminently  instructive.  The  like  conditions  exist  in 
Cuba,  where  a  considerable  part  of  the  Africans,  be- 
cause of  their  recent  importation,  or  because  they 
have  been  kept  apart  from  the  whites,  retain  much 
of  their  native  quality.  It  is,  indeed,  only  where  the 
blacks  have  had  a  chance  to  acquire  in  mass  the 
habits  of  their  superiors  and  to  form  a  society  per- 
vaded with  the  Aryan  motives  that  we  find  this 
imitation  well  developed. 

The  Negro  is  in  his  essential  qualities  far  more 
remote  from  the  Aryan  than  the  Jew.  It  is  of 
course  not  possible  accurately  to  gauge  such  differ- 
ences, but  the  impression  made  on  my  mind  is  that 
the  space  which  separates  our  essential  nature  from 
that  of  the  Israelite  has  not  the  tenth  part  of  the 
value  of  that  which  parts  us  from  our  African 
neighbors.  In  all  that  enters  into  the  field  of  re- 
ligion, the  family,  and  the  activities  of  society,  there 
is  essential  identity  between  ourselves  and  the  Jews. 
Yet  for  the  reason  that  the  Jew  cannot  imitate  our 
manner  of  approach  to  the  neighbor  or  divine  his 
motives  just  as  we  do,  he  remains  remote  from  us, 
while  the  Negro,  an  essential  alien,  comes  easily  very 


124  THE  NEIGHBOR 

near.  In  his  lack  of  adaptative  motive,  it  should  be 
noted,  the  Jew  is  curiously  like  ourselves.  All  the 
varieties  of  the  Aryan  race  have  the  same  tribal 
strength  that  makes  them  able  masters  but  unfit  to 
be  imitative  servants.  Those  of  the  English  stock 
have  this  spirit  in  singular  intensity.  In  all  places 
and  climes  they  keep  their  qualities  without  a  shadow 
of  turning.  It  is  indeed  evident  that  if  we  had  be- 
come the  oppressed  in  place  of  being  the  oppressors, 
we  should  have  failed,  much  as  the  Jews  have  done, 
to  reconcile  ourselves  to  the  lash.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  the  fates  would  have  found  in  us  the  stuff 
for  twenty  centuries  of  endurance,  but  with  the  Jew 
on  top  and  the  English  at  the  bottom,  the  dismal 
story  would  have  been  much  the  same  as  we  find  it. 
We  should  perhaps  have  been  more  easily  broken, 
but  we  would  have  been  quite  as  hard  to  bend. 

It  may  seem  to  the  reader,  it  will  certainly  so 
seem  if  he  has  the  average  share  of  dislike  for  the 
Jews,  that  I  have  not  done  justice  to  the  situation 
hi  that  I  have  failed  to  take  proper  account  of  the 
simple  fact  that  they  are  to  our  race  a  very  unplea- 
sant people,  as  is  well  shown  by  ages  of  history  in 
which  good  folk  as  well  as  bad,  pagans  and  Chris- 
tians alike,  have  united  in  deeming  them  socially  im- 
possible. Let  me  say,  in  answer,  that  I  entirely  agree 
with  this  criticism  so  far  as  it  is  warranted  by  the 


THE  HEBREW  PROBLEM  125 

ancient  canons  of  human  intercourse.  No  reasonable 
observer,  whatever  his  individual  opinion  might  be, 
would  venture  to  question  this  most  striking  and 
universal  of  all  ethnic  judgments.  I  well  remember 
that  before  I  became  interested  in  the  matter  I  was 
in  the  same  state  of  mind.  I  shall  in  the  final  chap- 
ter of  this  book  endeavor  to  show  more  completely 
what  is  suggested  in  this,  that  our  race  has  hith- 
erto been  controlled  in  its  relations  with  the  Jews 
and  other  folk  it  has  dominated,  by  certain  primitive 
tribal  motives  inherited  from  the  brute  and  savage, 
which  we  have  to  subjugate  in  order  that  we  may 
do  our  part  as  Christians  and  as  developed  men,  and 
that  unless  we  set  about  this  task  of  civilization 
effectively,  and  in  a  large  way,  we  shall  fail  to  win 
the  best  the  world  has  to  give  in  the  way  of  a  true 
commonwealth. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE   AFRICAN 

IT  needs  no  argument  to  show  that  the  matter  of 
the  future  of  the  Negroes  in  the  United  States  affords 
the  greatest  problems  with  which  our  commonwealth 
has  to  deal.  Certain  of  its  simpler  aspects  have  been 
or  are  now  before  us.  One  of  them  led  by  seemingly 
inevitable  steps  to  the  greatest  of  all  civil  wars; 
other  problems  of  no  less  magnitude  now  demand 
solution,  problems  that  are  likely  to  lead  to  grave 
perplexities  before  they  are  solved,  if  indeed  they 
are  ever  to  be  unraveled.  In  many  ways  the  Afri- 
can complex  is  the  most  peculiar  of  all  the  entan- 
glements that  the  process  of  civilizing  and  utilizing 
men  has  brought  about.  That  we  may  see  our  way 
to  discuss  so  much  of  it  as  relates  to  the  question 
with  which  we  are  dealing,  I  shall  very  briefly  set 
forth  the  main  features. 

While  the  peoples  of  the  Eurasian  continent  were 
in  process  of  social  development  in  the  ten  thousand 
years  or  more  down  to  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, those  of  Africa,  except  for  the  northern  fringe 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       127 

of  that  continent  in  the  lower  part  of  the  Nile  valley 
and  along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  remained 
apart.  In  a  small  way  slaves  came  thence  to  be  min- 
gled with  the  populations  of  Eurasia,  leaving  no  im- 
portant traces  of  their  stock  hi  the  mixture.  In  this, 
the  great  civilizing  age  of  mankind,  and  probably 
long  before  its  beginning,  Africa  south  of  the  Soudan 
was  the  seat  of  very  many  varieties  of  the  black 
races.  That  their  tribal  isolations  are  ancient,  and 
that  they  have  been  for  a  very  great  period  in  the 
agricultural  state  of  their  development,  is  evident 
from  the  remarkable  diversity  of  the  varieties  in  the 
several  species  of  their  cultivated  plants,  and  from 
the  exceptional  capacity  of  the  folk  to  endure  hard 
labor, — features  which  alike  indicate  that  the  pop- 
ulation had  long  ago  come  to  a  state  of  geograph- 
ical repose,  and  that  the  people  had  everywhere  be- 
come habituated  to  toil  in  a  manner  never  found 
hi  savage  men  while  they  are  in  the  stage  of  the 
hunter. 

I  shall  not  enter  on  the  difficult  questions  concern- 
ing the  ethnic  relations  of  the  Africans.  It  may, 
however,  be  said  that  while  we  know  little  of  this 
matter,  except  through  the  doubtful  criteria  of  lan- 
guage, it  is  evident  that  the  variety  of  the  people  is 
great,  and  that  under  the  common  aspect  given  by 
their  dark  color,  peculiar  hair,  and  somewhat  similar 


128  THE  NEIGHBOR 

features,  there  is  hidden  much  wider  ranging  diversi- 
ties than  separate  the  European  stocks.  The  range 
of  the  variations  is  probably  greater  than  what  holds 
apart  Aryan  and  American  Indian,  for  it  includes 
such  extremes  as  the  feeble  pigmies  of  the  central  part 
of  the  African  continent,  probably  the  nearest  akin  of 
any  existing  forms  to  the  primitive  human,  and  the 
sturdy  tribes  such  as  the  Basutos  and  the  Zulus,  who 
in  mere  vigor  of  mind  and  body  are  fit  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  European  peoples.  It  is  evident  that 
while  the  African  tribes  in  general  early  won  by  the 
simplest  steps  of  culture,  long  ago  coming,  as  before 
remarked,  to  the  stage  of  soil-tilling,  none  of  them 
have  attained  to  anything  like  civilization.  They  de- 
veloped no  extended  social  or  political  structure,  no 
literature  even  to  the  stage  of  organized  tradition, 
no  systems  of  laws,  no  aesthetic  art,  and  no  religion 
beyond  the  most  primitive  stages  of  that  motive. 
As  a  whole,  they  probably  had  attained  at  the  dawn 
of  history  to  about  the  same  grade  as  that  they 
now  occupy,  and  in  that  state  it  is  likely  they  had 
then  abided  for  a  period  of  great  duration. 

So  long  as  the  demand  for  slaves  was  well  satis- 
fied by  the  subjugation  of  conquered  folk  there  was 
no  occasion  for  the  Eurasians -to  break  into  Africa 
and  deport  its  people.  The  slave  markets  about  the 
Mediterranean  were  generally  glutted  with  more 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN      129 

salable  wares  than  the  Negro  tribes  afforded,  and  in 
case  of  deficient  supply  it  was  easy  then,  as  now,  to 
better  commerce  with  arms.  When,  however,  with 
the  advance  of  the  Christian  motive  it  gradually  be- 
came the  custom  no  longer  to  enslave  the  conquered, 
the  trade  in  Africans  became  more  active  and  that 
continent  was  looked  to  as  the  source  of  supply  of 
merchantable  men.  At  the  end  of  the  Middle  Ages 
vendable  human  beings  were  generally  black.  This 
trade,  at  least  in  Europe,  appears  to  have  been  lim- 
ited, Negroes  being  used  for  domestic  service  alone, 
and  mainly  to  add  a  picturesque  element  to  the  trains 
of  important  people. 

The  discovery  of  America  was  shortly  followed 
by  an  increased  use  of  Africa  as  a  source  of  supply 
of  slaves.  At  the  outset  of  occupation  of  the  new 
world  by  Europeans  a  determined  effort  was  made 
to  subjugate  its  indigenous  peoples,  and  turn  them 
to  use  as  laborers.  This  essay  was  made  gener- 
ally throughout  South  and  Central  America,  the  An- 
tilles, and  Mexico,  and,  in  some  measure,  in  the  more 
northern  districts,  but  it  everywhere  proved  a  fail- 
ure. For  some  reason  the  American  Indian,  though 
as  vigorous  as  the  African  folk,  and  on  the  whole  more 
intelligent,  has,  as  before  noted,  never  proved  an  en- 
during laborer,  having  quickly  perished  when  set  to 
the  tasks  of  the  slave.  It  at  once  became  evident 


130  THE  NEIGHBOR 

that  the  economic  control  of  the  regions  to  the  west 
of  the  Atlantic  would  have  to  be  won  by  imported 
labor.  In  this  period,  from  the  beginning  of  the  six- 
teenth to  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  con- 
ditions hi  Europe  did  not  admit  of  any  considerable 
emigration.  At  no  point  was  the  population  press- 
ing on  the  natural  resources  of  the  soil,  and  while 
the  outgoing  spirit  of  the  upper  classes  led  many  hi 
eager  quests  of  fortune  the  laboring  people  were  not 
tempted  over  the  dreaded  seas.  The  result  was  that 
to  Africa  all  the  colonizing  nations  turned  for  the 
"  hands  "  which  were  to  win  the  new  empires.  It  is 
true  that  some  effort  was  made  to  force  European 
laborers  to  America  as  convicts  or  as  indicted  ser- 
vants, but  the  number  thus  exported  was  inconsid- 
erable. 

There  seems  to  have  been  little  choice  as  regards 
the  source  whence  the  Negroes  were  obtained.  It  is 
evident,  however,  that  the  principal  fields  of  supply 
were  the  trading  stations  of  the  Portuguese  on  the 
Guinea  coast,  yet  it  is  certain  that  the  importation 
included  many  other  stocks  than  those  of  the  west- 
ern equatorial  section  of  Africa.  For  besides  the  de- 
scendants of  the  relatively  low  grade  tribes  of  the 
people  dwelling  near  the  west  coast  we  find  among 
the  Negroes  of  the  United  States  and  the  Antilles 
very  many  who  are  clearly  derived  from  the  stronger 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       131 

very  distinct  Basutic  race  and  now  and  then  a  group 
in  which  there  is  an  evident  infusion  of  Semitic  blood. 
As  it  was  not  the  prevailing  custom  of  Africans  to 
sell  their  own  people,  those  exported  from  the  slave 
coast  appear  to  have  come  not  from  the  Ashantis 
and  other  slave  traders,  but  from  the  tribes  further 
to  the  East,  mainly  from  the  stock  known  as  the 
Mandingos,  who  probably  are  of  the  same  race  as 
the  Guinea  coast  peoples. 

So  far  as  can  be  determined  by  three  centuries  of 
trial,  this  experiment  of  acclimating  a  large  and  va- 
rted  body  of  African  people  to  the  New  World  has 
been  perfectly  successful.  All  the  varied  stocks  have 
retained  their  strength  and  fertility,  not  only  in  the 
equatorial  belt  of  the  Americas  but  in  extra-trop- 
ical regions  as  well.  In  the  United  States,  where  the 
Negro  is  the  least  intermingled  with  the  European, 
and  where,  in  my  opinion,  based  on  much  observa- 
tion and  the  questioning  of  many  intelligent  phy- 
sicians, not  more  than  one-tenth  of  the  people  have 
any  admixture  of  white  blood,  the  race  is  fecund  and 
enduring.  It  is  true  that  the  census  reports  show  a 
slightly  higher  death  rate  than  that  of  the  whites,  the 
ratio  being  about  as  17  to  15,  but  this  is  probably  ex- 
plicable by  the  fact  that  the  blacks  are  less  well  cared 
for  than  the  whites,  and  consequently  the  mortality 
is  larger.  North  of  the  limit  of  the  old  slave  states 


132  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  death  rate  increases  in  a  rapid  manner,  so  that 
the  negro  population  would  if  unrecruited  soon  be- 
come extinct.  Yet  even  in  the  maritime  provinces  of 
Canada  there  are  acclimated  families  of  blacks  which 
have  remained  hi  good  condition  for  more  than  a  cen- 
tury. It  seems  clear  that  from  the  equator  to  about 
the  parallel  of  40°  north  and  south  latitude  these 
Africans  may  be  regarded  as  successfully  established, 
and  that  they  are  to  remain  a  part  of  the  states  hi 
both  American  continents  for  all  human  time. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  this  successful  transplan- 
tation of  a  people  from  one  zone  of  climate  to  an- 
other is  the  first  instance  of  such  a  change  that  has 
occurred  hi  historic  ages.  It  is  eminently  proba- 
ble that  mankind  originated  within  the  tropics  and 
spread  thence  towards  the  poles,  but  this  diffusion 
was  probably  at  a  very  slow  rate  and  attended  by  an 
adjustment  to  new  conditions  which  was  very  gradu- 
ally accomplished.  Even  the  more  vigorous  stocks 
of  the  Aryan  race,  notwithstanding  numerous  efforts 
and  with  the  aid  of  the  resources  of  civilization, 
have  never  been  able  to  stand  such  a  change.  The 
fact  that  the  Negroes  endured  such  transition  with- 
out any  perceptible  shock,  passing  at  once  from  the 
equator  nearly  half  way  to  the  poles,  yet  retaining 
their  full  capacity  for  labor  and  exhibiting  no  defi- 
nite liability  to  new  diseases  is  a  proof  of  their  phy- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       133 

sical  endurance.1  That  their  fecundity  was  in  no 
wise  diminished  by  this  migration  affords  equally 
good  evidence  of  their  vitality  which,  judged  by  these 
tests,  is  higher  than  has  been  found  to  be  the  case 
with  any  other  primitive  people. 

The  accommodative  capacity  of  the  Negro's  frame 
is  no  greater  than  that  of  his  spirit.  He  met  the 
grave  trials  due  to  a  change  in  habits  and  beliefs  as 
easily  as  he  did  those  of  climate.  Although  it  is  said 
that  some  of  the  new-made  slaves  evidently  belong- 
ing to  the  more  militant  stocks  were  unruly  and 
inclined  to  suicide,  as  a  whole  they  retained  the 
cheerful  simple  view  of  life  that  characterized  them 
in  their  own  country.  As  before  remarked,  their 
capacity  for  adjustment  by  a  process  of  imitation, 
a  power  denied  to  the  higher  races,  enabled  them 
quickly  to  adopt  the  manners  of  their  new-found 
masters  and  even  to  enter  into  their  simpler  states 
of  mind  in  a  measure  shown  by  no  other  primitive 
people.  They  were  able  with  singular  rapidity  to 
acquire  the  English  language.  They  had  to  adapt  it 
to  their  simpler  thought  by  adding  certain  tenses  to 
the  auxiliary  verbs  as  in  the  forms  "gone  done," 

1  It  is  frequently  said,  and  perhaps  with  truth,  that  the  Negroes 
of  the  United  States  are  more  liable  to  tuberculosis  than  the  whites : 
yet  as  we  do  not  know  the  measure  of  their  original  liability  to  this 
group  of  diseases  the  fact  cannot  be  used  to  show  that  they  have 
suffered  from  the  migration. 


134  THE  NEIGHBOR 

"gwine  gone  done,"  "done  gwine  gone  done,"  yet 
in  general  they  speak  the  language  more  effectively 
and  with  a  keener  sense  of  the  import  of  its  phrase 
than  is  the  case  with  the  peasant  class  of  England. 
It  is,  indeed,  evident  that  so  far  as  their  remarkable 
imitative  faculty  has  carried  them  they  have  come 
nearer  molding  themselves  on  the  mastering  race 
than  has  been  the  case  with  any  other  subjugated 
people  known  to  us.  So  complete  is  the  likeness 
which  has  been  thus  brought  about,  that,  led  by 
their  categoric  motive,  the  desire  to  simplify  the 
complications  of  the  world  by  a  rough  classifica- 
tion of  things,  men  very  generally  suppose  that  the 
Negro  is  in  his  essential  qualities  what  our  own 
kind  would  be  if  their  skins  were  black.  This  ap- 
pears to  me  to  be  a  most  erroneous  conclusion  ;  one 
that  has  already  led  to  grave  injustice  to  the  black 
people  and  certain  if  it  stay  uncorrected  to  lead  to 
yet  greater  evils.  I  shall,  therefore,  set  forth  what 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  actual  state  of  the  Negro,  the 
ways  in  which  the  eminent  good  that  is  in  him  may 
be  made  profitable  to  the  commonwealth  and  the 
serious  evils  of  his  inheritance  in  some  measure 
avoided. 

Let  us  note  again  that  before  the  Africans  came 
to  us  they  had  won  a  good  way  upward  from  the 
estate  of  the  most  primitive  men ;  they  had  learned 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       135 

to  labor,  to  obey  unseen  rulers ;  they  had  developed 
the  simpler  manual  arts,  and  they  had  accomplished 
these  tasks  in  immemorial  antiquity.  On  the  other 
hand,  they  had  developed  no  historic  ability ;  they 
were,  as  regards  their  capacity  for  tradition,  that 
ability  to  knit  the  present  with  the  past  which  is 
the  foundation  of  all  civilization,  at  the  base  of  the 
human  series.  This  lack  is  shown  by  the  absence  of 
literature,  of  religion,  and  of  social  polity.  These 
facts  appear  to  indicate  that  the  folk  for  all  their 
ethnic  variety  had,  in  their  African  life,  come  to  a 
state  of  arrest  in  their  development ;  they  had  at- 
tained to  the  point  in  that  process  beyond  which  they 
were  not  fitted  to  go.  This  leads  to  the  presump- 
tion that  any  further  progress  must  depend  on  an 
imitation  of  a  mastering  race :  it  cannot  come  forth 
from  the  innate  motives  of  the  folk. 

There  are  those  who  hold  a  man  to  be  a  mere  re- 
ceptacle into  which  we  may  by  the  process  of  educa- 
tion pour  so  much  as  we  will  of  that  distiDate  of  ex- 
perience we  term  knowledge.  The  teacher,  if  he  has 
learned  the  most  obvious  truth  of  his  trade,  knows 
that  to  have  any  value  instruction  must  be  educa- 
tive, it  must  awaken  inherited  latencies,  capacities 
that  are  in  the  stock  and  which  all  his  resources  can 
in  no  wise  create.  Given  a  mind  hi  which  the  poten- 
tialities of  thought  and  action  exist,  however  deeply 


136  THE  NEIGHBOR 

buried,  teaching  is  profitable ;  otherwise  it  is  utterly 
vain.  The  master  of  the  art  knows  that  his  first 
duty  is  to  find  what  is  hi  the  mind  that  may  be 
quickened:  if  he  strives  to  awaken  capacities  that 
do  not  exist,  he  and  his  pupil  are  seeking  the  im- 
possible ;  as  the  Greeks  have  it,  "  the  one  is  milking 
a  he-goat,  while  the  other  holds  a  sieve." 

The  foregoing  view  as  to  the  position  of  the  Negro 
as  regards  the  motives  which  make  for  advance  hi 
the  lines  of  culture  that  lead  to  civilization  is  cer- 
tain to  appear  to  most  of  my  readers  excessively 
pessimistic ;  they  cite  the  development  of  many  in- 
dividual blacks,  and  take  these  instances,  on  the 
general  principle  that  where  one  man  may  set  his 
feet  an  army  can  go,  as  showing  that  the  whole 
race  may  be  indefinitely  uplifted.  In  my  opinion 
this  argument  has  little  value  when  balanced  with 
the  facts  derived  from  the  history  of  the  people  in 
Africa  or  in  America.  Here,  as  in  the  Old  World, 
the  Negroes  have  not  only  failed  to  exhibit  a  capa- 
city for  indigenous  development,  but  when  uplifted 
from  without  have  shown  an  obvious  tendency  to 
fall  back  into  their  primitive  estate  as  soon  as  the 
external  support  was  withdrawn.  The  instances 
that  exemplify  the  ephemeral  character  of  the  Aryan 
culture  which  is  produced  by  the  imitative  humor 
of  the  Negro  are  many  and  fairly  indicative. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       137 

First  of  these  we  may  cite  that  of  Hayti,  where 
the  blacks  have  been  longer  in  residence  than  in 
any  other  part  of  America,  their  domestication  on 
that  island  having  been  begun  near  four  centuries 
ago.  For  more  than  two  and  a  half  centuries,  or  for 
a  longer  period  than  slavery  lasted  within  the  body 
of  the  United  States,  these  Africans  were  under  the 
educative  control  of  the  Spaniards,  subjected  to  an 
able  people,  and  completely  under  the  influence  of 
Roman  Christianity,  a  form  of  that  faith  that  fits 
well  to  their  needs  of  spiritual  help.  The  presumption 
is  that  the  civilizing  process  was  about  as  effect- 
ively applied  to  them  as  it  was  to  their  kindred  in 
the  slavery  of  the  United  States,  yet  immediately 
on  attaining  independence,  the  population  began  to 
return  to  the  African  condition,  and  for  a  century 
has  been,  without  interruption  save  possibly  by  the 
occasional  control  of  tyrants,  steadfastly  retrograd- 
ing. According  to  the  testimony  of  Sir  Spencer  St. 
John,  long  British  minister  to  this  so-called  repub- 
lic, the  state  of  this  population  is  now  almost  as 
low  as  in  Dahomey.  Certain  of  the  statements  of 
this  author,  as,  for  instance,  that  concerning  the 
occurrence  of  cannibalism  in  Hayti,  have  been  ques- 
tioned by  various  critics,  none  of  whom  however 
appear  to  have  had  his  opportunities  for  observa- 
tion, or  a  more  evident  desire  to  state  the  truth. 


138  THE  NEIGHBOR 

However  it  may  be,  with  this  evidence  of  a  re- 
turn to  the  lowest  stage  of  savagery  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  this,  the  oldest  body  of  Africans  hi 
the  New  World,  has  proved  absolutely  incapable  of 
maintaining  a  society  of  the  Aryan  type. 

What  is  evident  from  the  history  of  the  island  of 
Hayti  also  appears  with  equal  clearness,  though 
with  less  accent,  elsewhere.  During  the  lamentable 
decade  following  the  Civil  War,  the  so-called  period 
of  reconstruction,  while  the  Negroes  were  in  power 
in  the  late  rebellious  states  they  were  evidently 
possessed  by  the  Haytian  motive,  and,  but  for  the 
arrest  of  the  process  to  which  it  led,  would  have  re- 
duced the  country  to  much  the  same  state  of  degra- 
dation. Making  all  due  allowance  for  the  condition 
of  these  newly  emancipated  folk,  and  the  allowance 
due  is  large,  the  history  of  this  period  shows  us 
that  the  Negro  has  as  yet  and  as  a  race  developed 
no  sense  of  political  or  social  order  beyond  what 
he  brought  with  him  from  his  native  country.  We 
learn  much  to  the  same  effect  from  a  study  of  the 
isolated  aggregates  of  Negroes  which  here  and  there 
are  to  be  found  in  the  Southern  States.  Whenever 
such  communities  have  remained  apart  from  the 
influence  of  the  whites  for  a  generation,  they  com- 
monly show  signs  of  a  relapse  towards  their  an- 
cestral estate.  All  the  facts  we  have  point  to  the 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       139 

same  unhappy  conclusion,  that  the  Negro  consid- 
ered as  a  species  is,  by  nature,  incapable  of  cre- 
ating or  maintaining  societies  of  an  order  above 
barbarism,  and  that,  so  far  as  we  can  discern,  this 
feature  of  his  nature,  depending  as  it  does  on  the 
lack  of  certain  qualities  of  mind,  is  irremediable. 
Whatever  we  may  inculcate  into  them  in  the  way 
of  a  commonwealth  motive  will  remain  essentially 
foreign  and  will  fall  away  as  soon  as  the  school- 
master is  forgotten. 

Related  to  the  lack  of  the  larger  social  and  politi- 
cal motives,  the  Negro  exhibits  another  deficiency 
which  is  of  much  importance  in  determining  his 
future  in  our  commonwealth.  This  is  indicated  by 
his  general  inability  to  act  with  his  fellows  in  co- 
operative work.  In  our  own  Aryan  race,  as  well  as 
in  the  Semitic,  there  is  an  element  of  confidence  of 
man  in  his  fellows  that  leads  to  the  association  of 
endeavor  in  business.  To  this  the  Negroes  rarely 
tend,  and,  so  far  as  I  have  seen,  the  experiments 
they  make  usually  fail  because  they  have  not  the 
peculiar  quality  of  mind  required  for  effective  co- 
operation. Here  again  it  may  be,  and  doubtless  will 
be,  urged  that  the  state  of  slavery,  however  educa- 
tive it  may  have  been  in  certain  limited  ways,  gave 
no  chance  for  the  development  of  the  associative 
habit.  The  rejoinder  is  evident;  it  is  that  no  such 


140  THE  NEIGHBOR 

development  took  place  in  the  ages  of  African  life, 
nor,  as  I  learn  from  others,  is  there  any  sign  of  it  in 
the  Haytian  experiment. 

Turning  now  from  the  larger  matters  of  social 
and  political  order,  let  us  consider  the  Negroes  from 
the  point  of  view  of  their  individual  nature.  The 
change  will  be  most  agreeable,  for  there  is  almost  as 
much  to  say  hi  praise  of  the  black  as  a  man  as  there 
is  to  say  hi  blame  of  him  as  a  citizen.  First  of  all, 
because  it  is  of  foremost  importance,  let  us  note  that 
the  blacks  with  admirable  generality  have  the  whole 
range  of  primitive  sympathies  exceedingly  well  de- 
veloped. They  have  a  singularly  quick  sympathetic 
contact  with  the  neighbor ;  they  attain  to  his  state 
of  mind  and  shape  themselves  to  meet  him  as  no 
other  primitive  people  do.  Those  who  have  had  a 
chance  to  compare  hi  this  regard  the  Negro  and 
the  American  Indian  must  have  been  struck  by  the 
difference  between  the  two  peoples  hi  this  most 
important  feature.  The  Indian,  though  really  much 
more  nearly  akin  to  us  in  spirit,  is  so  slow  to  become 
friendly  that  we  rarely  attain  to  any  close  relations 
with  him.  The  Negro  comes  even  more  quickly  to 
that  attitude  than  the  average  man  of  our  own  race. 
While  in  his  method  of  meeting  us  he  is  affected  by 
his  imitative  humor,  which  instinctively  leads  him 
to  take  the  manner  of  his  neighbor,  the  foundation 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       141 

of  good  nature  which  underlies  his  moods  is  his 
own.  Be  it  said  again,  he  is  rich  in  the  primitive 
sympathies  which  came  to  us  not  only  from  hu- 
manity but  from  the  life  below  man.  Left  to  them- 
selves these  admirable  motives  do  not  become  well 
organized  ;  helped  in  their  shaping  by  contact  with 
good  people  of  our  own  race,  they  readily  become 
creatures  fit  to  compare  hi  moral  quality  with  the 
best  we  know.  Thus,  while  she  loves  her  offspring, 
the  Negro  woman  is  apt  to  neglect  them,  but  as  a 
nurse  of  her  master's  child  she  is  likely  to  be  abso- 
lutely faithful.  Again,  though  they  sympathize  in  a 
momentary  way  with  the  neighbors  of  their  race,  I 
have  never  known  an  instance  of  lasting  sacrificial 
friendship  between  two  blacks.  Even  the  ties  of 
kinship  are  weak  as  compared  with  those  of  the 
whites,  yet  the  instances  of  devotion  of  black  ser- 
vants to  their  masters,  as  beautiful  as  any  of  fable, 
are  innumerable,  and  of  themselves  warrant  my 
contention  that  the  race  is  richly  endowed  with 
that  faith  which  makes  men. 

How  good  the  better  Negroes  are  can  only  be 
judged  by  those  who  have  known  them  with  the 
beautiful  friendliness  which  so  often  existed  be- 
tween the  whites  and  blacks  in  the  time  of  slave- 
holding,  and  was  the  redeeming  feature  of  that 
institution.  Every  Southerner  I  have  questioned 


142  THE  NEIGHBOR 

concerning  his  recollections  of  that  time  has  recalled 
memories  of  men  and  women  who  hi  their  essential 
human  quality  were  fit  to  be  placed  with  the  best  of 
our  own  race.  Nor  were  these  admirable  men  very 
exceptional.  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  they  were 
proportionately  about  as  numerous  among  the  blacks 
as  among  the  whites.  Thus,  while  I  have  known  at 
least  twenty  tunes  as  many  persons  of  my  own  race 
as  of  the  African,  there  are  three  blacks  who  well  de- 
serve a  place  among  the  score  whom  I  remember,  for 
their  eminent  faithfulness.  It  may  be  supposed  that 
these,  being  youthful  memories,  are  somewhat  fanci- 
ful ;  but  one  of  these  men,  the  foremost  of  them,  Jeff 
Allen,  a  hotel  porter  in  Frankfort,  Kentucky,  was 
well  known  to  me  for  thirty  years,  until  indeed  I 
was  a  man  of  forty-five  years  of  age.  Something  of 
his  station  among  men  may  be  judged  by  the  follow- 
ing incident.  Alighting  from  a  tram  in  that  town,  I 
was  greeted  by  two  of  my  friends,  Jeff  and  another, 
the  then  Governor  of  the  Commonwealth.  I  took 
the  Negro's  hand  first,  saying  to  his  Excellency  that 
I  always  shook  hands  with  Jeff  first.  "So  do  I," 
said  the  Governor. 

To  those  of  us  who  knew  the  Negroes  when  they 
were  much  more  knowable  than  they  now  are,  these 
precious  memories  of  simple,  faithful  men  afford  a 
warrant  of  the  human  quality  that  is  in  the  race 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       143 

which  may  be  fairly  set  against  all  the  evidence  that 
goes  to  show  the  general  incompetence  of  its  peo- 
ple for  the  peculiar  tasks  of  the  higher  civilization, 
for  state  building,  and  for  the  higher  learning.  Far 
above  all  else  that  can  be  said  of  the  quality  of  men 
is  what  we  know  of  their  primary  human  nature, 
their  capacities  for  love  and  faith,  their  willingness 
to  trust  and  serve  those  to  whom  their  good  in- 
stincts led  them  to  turn  for  help.  We  need  no 
further  evidence  that  these  foundations  of  human 
nature  are  firm  set  in  the  Negro  character.  The 
history  of  slavery  in  this  country  shows  in  the  clear- 
est light  that  the  Negroes  are  fit  to  be  our  col- 
laborators in  the  most  important  work  of  society. 
The  existing  prosperity  of  the  states  in  which  they 
abound  shows  that  they  are  effectively  associated 
with  the  whites  in  the  most  serious  part  of  citi- 
zenly  endeavors,  those  that  relate  to  bread- winning. 
We  shall  have  to  leave  the  fringes  of  that  life,  so 
much  as  relates  to  statecraft,  to  the  higher  learning 
and  other  path-breaking  work,  for  the  present  at 
least,  aside,  with  the  assurance  that  if  a  hearty  in- 
dustrial cooperation  can  be  maintained,  it  will  afford 
a  fairly  safe  basis  on  which  the  blacks  may  establish 
their  life. 

I  confess  myself  somewhat  puzzled  to  account  for 
the  eminent  fidelity  so  often  seen  in  Negroes  to 


144  THE  NEIGHBOR 

masters  who,  from  my  point  of  view,  seemed  not 
to  deserve  such  faithful  service.  The  feature  may 
be  explicable  in  their  case,  as  hi  the  similar  but  less 
noticeable  instances  of  like  nature  hi  the  lowlier 
stocks  of  our  own  race,  where  we  find  an  unques- 
tioning devotion  to  a  chief,  who  by  some  right  of 
succession,  or  by  his  power,  impresses  the  minds  of 
his  subjects  and  wins  from  them  a  love  that  they  do 
not  and  cannot  give  to  their  equals  and  inferiors,  or 
even  to  their  own  children.  Be  this  as  it  may,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  devoted  faith  is  more  easily 
possible  to  the  Negro  than  to  any  other  known  man 
of  his  estate,  and  that  on  this  foundation  it  is  practi- 
cable with  due  guidance  to  establish  a  social  order. 
How  firm  that  relation  may  be  made  by  proper  man- 
agement is  well  shown  by  the  conduct  of  the  Ne- 
groes hi  the  slave-holding  part  of  the  United  States, 
especially  during  the  period  of  the  Civil  War,  as 
compared  with  the  experience  hi  Hayti. 

It  is  well  known  that  throughout  the  last  half 
century  preceding  the  Rebellion  there  was  much 
effort  made  to  incite  the  slaves  of  the  Southern 
States  to  revolt.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  find 
hi  no  case  was  there  any  evident  movement  towards 
a  rising  except  hi  the  Nat  Turner  conspiracy  of  Vir- 
ginia. Yet  it  is  doubtful  if  that  movement  would, 
even  if  let  alone,  ever  have  come  to  the  point  of 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       145 

action.  As  it  was,  it  was  a  fiasco.  When  secession 
was  attempted,  the  institution  of  slavery  was  in  the 
state  when,  if  ever,  a  revolt  like  that  of  Hayti 
would  have  occurred.  To  a  considerable  extent  the 
method  of  great  plantations  had  taken  the  place  of 
the  relatively  small  farms,  and  a  large  part  of  the 
blacks,  perhaps  one-fifth  of  the  whole  number,  no 
longer  came  in  contact  with  the  households  of  their 
masters  but  knew  only  their  overseers.  The  sale  of 
Negroes  for  profit,  which  in  earlier  days  was  deemed 
unworthy  of  a  well-born  man,  had  become  common 
enough ;  in  a  word,  the  institution  which  once  had 
a  tincture  of  the  patriarchal  motive  had  been  to  a 
considerable  extent  dehumanized.  Yet  during  the 
whole  of  the  trials  of  the  Civil  War  and  the  pe- 
riod immediately  following  it  the  Negroes  remained 
faithful  to  their  masters.  There  were  no  outbreaks, 
though  the  way  to  them  was  easy  and  many  efforts 
were  made  to  incite  them.  When  in  the  later  years 
of  the  war  the  white  men  of  the  South  were  in  the 
armies,  thousands  of  plantations  were  left  to  be 
managed  by  women,  but  I  have  never,  in  answer 
to  much  questioning  made  just  after  the  surren- 
der, heard  of  a  single  instance  in  which  the  Negroes 
turned  upon  them  or  even  contemned  their  author- 
ity. The  conduct  of  the  slaves  during  the  Civil  War 
is  perhaps  the  most  surprising  and  instructive  event 


146  THE  NEIGHBOR 

of  that  remarkable  period.  For  my  purpose  it  is  of 
great  value  for  the  reason  that  it  shows,  as  all  must 
have  seen  who  have  considered  it,  how  firm  is  that 
foundation  of  affection  and  good  faith  in  the  Negro 
on  which  we  may  hope  to  develop  relations  between 
his  own  and  our  race. 

It  is  important  to  note  that  this  development  of 
good  faith  hi  the  Negroes  took  place  under  the  con- 
ditions of  slavery.  I  am  by  no  means  an  apologist  of 
that  institution,  although  my  ancestors  held  slaves 
since  it  was  established  in  this  country  and  I  was 
heir  to  the  traditions  of  that  class.  A  part  of  these 
traditions  was  that  the  system  was  an  evil ;  and  so 
far  as  possible  I  helped  to  overthrow  it.  Yet  it  is 
evident  to  me  that  hi  no  part  of  the  world  and  in  no 
other  age  has  a  people  of  lowly  race  ever  for  their 
best  interests  been  so  well  placed  as  in  the  Amer- 
ican slave-holding  States.  Frequently  they  were  ill- 
treated,  sometimes  shamefully  abused,  but  with  a 
generality  rarely  if  ever  before  experienced  with 
enslaved  people  they  were  cared  for  by  their  mas- 
ters, especially  by  the  women,  with  an  admirable 
devotion  for  their  moral  welfare  and  with  a  sym- 
pathy that  is  told  in  the  true  faith  of  the  slaves 
during  the  Civil  War.  The  immediate  and  most 
serious  evil  of  slavery  came  not  upon  the  black 
people  but  upon  the  whites.  To  the  slaves  them- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       147 

selves  the  relation  was  exceedingly  helpful,  for  it 
afforded  them  a  training  in  human  relations,  in 
household  arts,  and  in  religion,  which  could  have 
come  to  their  race  in  no  other  way.  It  is  likely  that 
the  beneficial  effects  of  slavery  were,  because  of  the 
advancing  commercialism,  near  their  end  before 
the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  for  the  rapid 
development  of  large  plantations  diminished  the 
intercourse  between  the  races.  The  abolition  of 
slavery  and  the  effort  to  bring  the  ex-slaves  at  once 
into  the  position  of  the  citizen  has  for  the  time  to  a 
great  extent  broken  up  the  faith-breeding  relation 
between  the  two  peoples. 

As  regards  his  other  moral  qualities  it  may  be 
said  that  the  Negro  is  not  as  yet  proved  to  be  of 
lower  grade  than  whites  of  like  station.  That  he  is 
prone  to  thieving  in  a  small  way  is  true,  but  this 
vice,  common  to  all  primitive  folk,  was  fostered 
rather  than  hindered  by  the  conditions  of  slavery, 
when  he  had  no  chance  to  acquire  a  sense  of  right 
in  property.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn,  a 
large  part  of  the  race  are,  in  this  regard,  faithful 
where  they  are  trusted,  and  they  are,  hi  general, 
learning  to  respect  the  law.  They  are  rather  less  in- 
clined than  the  low-grade  whites  to  drunkenness, 
and  appear  not  to  suffer  as  much  from  the  effects  of 
alcohol.  The  testimony  is  to  the  effect  that  they 


148  THE  NEIGHBOR 

rarely  have  delirium  tremens.  Considering  their 
exceedingly  difficult  position  since  their  emancipa- 
tion, the  sudden  deprivation  of  the  moral  control  to 
which  they  have  been  accustomed,  they  have  shown 
singularly  little  tendency  to  robbery  or  murder. 

It  is  so  commonly  stated  that  it  has  come  to  be 
assumed  that  the  Negro  is  sexually  a  very  brutal 
creature  who  cannot  be  trusted  in  contact  with 
white  women.  It  may  be  granted  that  his  animal 
passions  are  strong,  and  that  in  his  native  state  of 
mind,  when  not  under  the  moral  dominance  of  the 
white  people,  he  is  less  able  to  control  himself  than 
the  men  of  that  race.  Yet  the  history  of  blacks 
during  the  period  of  slavery  shows  that  their  moral 
control  was  as  good  as  in  our  own  race.  I  do  not 
remember  ever  hearing  before  the  emancipation  of 
that  crime,  or  even  a  suggestion  or  fear  of  it.  Much 
questioning  of  others  who  knew  well  the  social  con- 
ditions of  the  slave-holding  district  has  convinced 
me  that  it  rarely  occurred.  This  fact  is  of  much  im- 
portance, for  it  indicates  at  once  that  the  Negro  can 
attain  a  moral  state  in  which  the  sexual  motive  is 
fairly  well  controlled  as  it  is  among  civilized  peo- 
ple, not  by  fear  but  through  the  sympathies.  It  also 
seems  to  indicate  that  his  close  relation  with  his 
masters  served  to  lift  him  to  that  plane. 

That  the  assaults  of  Negroes  on  white  women  in 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       149 

the  South  have  increased  since  the  emancipation 
appears  to  be  clear.  There  is,  indeed,  some  reason 
to  believe  that  in  the  Northern  States  also  they  are 
more  prone  to  this  crime  than  the  average  of  white 
men;  but  it  is  not  yet  evident  that  the  Negro  is 
more  apt  to  be  guilty  of  such  outrages  than  the 
Aryan  of  the  same  low  social  position.  Moreover,  hi 
judging  the  quality  of  the  African  in  this  regard  we 
have  to  bear  hi  mind  the  fact  that  hi  our  own  race 
for  many  centuries  the  men  known  to  have  been 
guilty  of  this  offense  have  been  summarily  dealt 
with,  so  that  their  evil  blood  has  been  removed  from 
the  stock.  We  may  criticise  our  ancestors  as  bru- 
tal, but  their  condign  punishment  of  such  malefac- 
tors doubtless  helped  to  elevate  the  race  by  a  very 
effective  process  of  selection.  Considering  that  the 
Negro  race  has  not  passed  through  this  process  of 
purification,  and  that  he  is  now  in  a  most  unhappy 
position,  with  his  ancient  external  support  with- 
drawn and  with  no  inheritances  strong  enough  to 
take  their  place,  he  has  not 'done  so  badly.  A  fair 
assessment  of  the  situation  leads  to  the  conviction 
that  morally  he  is  hopeful  material  for  use  hi  our 
society. 

Having  referred  to  the  extirpating  process  as  a 
means  of  removing  from  a  stock  the  strain  of  blood 
that  tends  to  crime,  it  seems  necessary  to  say  a  word 


150  THE  NEIGHBOR 

about  the  resort  to  lynch  law  in  the  case  of  Negroes 
accused  of  criminal  assaults.  While  I  believe  that 
it  is  a  sound  and  hi  a  large  way  humane  policy 
promptly  to  execute  every  person,  white  or  black, 
who  is  legally  convicted  of  rape,  I  regard  the  lynch- 
ing of  these  offenders,  especially  with  the  accom- 
panying brutalities  so  usually  practiced,  as  hardly 
less  shameful  than  the  crimes  they  are  designed  to 
punish.  The  law  may  pardon  a  man  who  in  hot 
blood  slays  the  brute  who  is  guilty  of  rape,  yet  if  he 
be  a  true  citizen  he  will  blame  himself  for  his  rage, 
for  he  will  know  that  the  offender  should  have  paid 
his  debt  to  the  law.  But  when  men  take  the  crimi- 
nal from  the  hands  of  the  law  to  have  vengeance  on 
him,  they  are  murderers.  Their  detestation  of  the 
culprit's  offense  in  no  wise  lightens  their  own.  Until 
this  American  form  of  crime  is  eradicated  we  can- 
not regard  ourselves  as  a  law-abiding  people,  and  a 
commonwealth  without  law  that  is  held  sacredly 
inviolate  is  a  mockery. 

As  for  the  more  purely  intellectual  capacities  of 
the  Negro  people,  we  have  again  to  begin  with  their 
African  history.  This  shows  that  all  the  stocks 
which  have  afforded  considerable  elements  of  our 
American  blacks  differ  from  the  Aryans  in  many 
regards,  of  which  the  following  are  the  most  impor- 
tant. As  before  remarked,  they  originally  lacked 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       151 

the  powers  which  lead  to  what  we  may  term  the  his- 
toric sense,  that  disposition  to  check  present  action 
by  the  past  and  to  treasure  the  history  of  the  tribe 
or  state.  This  motive  is  evident  among  most  peo- 
ples even  before  they  have  attained  to  any  effective 
method  of  recording,  all  those  methods  being  due  to 
the  historic  sense.  We  commonly  find  among  sav- 
ages a  body  of  traditions  and  a  system  of  handing 
them  down,  or  in  their  stead  legends  that  embody  a 
perspective.  So  far  as  I  can  find  all  this  is  lacking 
hi  the  tribes  whence  our  blacks  came.  In  general 
their  life  is  immediate,  of  the  day,  in  a  measure  that 
is  not  recognized  without  close  study  of  their  ways 
and  habitual  thoughts.  Those  who  believe  that  a 
man  is  what  his  teachers  make  him  may  contend  that 
this  state  of  mind  is  due  to  slavery,  the  slave  not 
being  called  on  to  look  before  and  after,  and  so  abid- 
ing in  the  present ;  but  hi  view  of  the  history  of  the 
race  hi  Africa  and  Hayti  this  seems  a  vain  conten- 
tion. 

As  regards  his  rational  powers  the  Negro  has  a 
low  average  capacity.  With  rare  exceptions,  his  abil- 
ity in  the  field  of  mathematics  is  far  less  than  that 
of  the  Aryan  and  the  Semite.  Yet  it  is  to  be  remem- 
bered that  the  Negro  Banneker,1  a  pure  black  born 

1  See  Memoir  of  Benjamin  Banneker,  by  John  H.  B.  Latrobo, 
African  Repository,  vol.  xxi,  1845,  p.  321. 


152  THE  NEIGHBOR 

in  Maryland  in  the  eighteenth  century,  taught  him- 
self the  art  of  computation,  and  for  years  published 
an  Almanac  much  used  in  the  district  south  of  New 
York.  We  know  nothing  of  this  man's  stock  except 
that  his  mother  was  the  child  of  Africans,  that  his 
father  was  from  that  country,  and  that  both  were 
pure  blacks.  He  may  have  been  partly  of  Arab  blood, 
as  appears  to  have  been  the  case  with  quite  a  num- 
ber of  the  Negro  families  of  Virginia.  In  other  rare 
instances  the  Negro  has  shown  a  certain  capacity  for 
arithmetic,  for  there  have  been  "lightning  calcu- 
lators "  of  their  race.  Yet  at  most  these  exceptions 
relate  to  arithmetical  power  ;  they  in  no  sense  inval- 
idate the  general  proposition  that  the  mathematics 
which  require  constructive  ability  of  the  higher  kind, 
as  algebra  and  geometry,  are  generally  beyond  the 
capacities  of  this  people.  Be  it  said  that  this  is  no 
very  grave  indictment,  for  the  lack  is  not  uncommon 
in  many  of  the  ablest  men  of  our  own  race. 

In  the  field  of  physical  science  the  Negro  seems 
hardly  more  capable  than  in  mathematics.  As  a  stu- 
dent he  appears  to  be  inept  in  all  such  matters,  and 
in  no  instance  have  men  with  more  than  a  slight  ad- 
mixture of  African  blood  made  contributions  of  any 
value  to  this  branch  of  learning.  Correlated  with  this 
deficiency  we  find  in  the  race  a  notable  incapacity  for 
invention.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn  they 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       153 

rarely  devise  improvements  in  the  method  of  doing 
the  work  they  have  in  hand.  Their  arts  hi  Africa  were 
of  the  simplest  nature,  and  none  of  their  tools  or 
arms  have  the  least  stamp  of  originality.  It  is  doubt- 
ful if  any  of  them  were  devised  by  the  tribes  whence 
our  blacks  came ;  they  appear  to  be  altogether  from 
the  common  stock  of  primitive  man.  Against  these 
eminent  deficiencies  we  may  set  certain  capacities  of 
moment. 

The  Negro  has  a  remarkable  aptitude  for  lan- 
guages. As  before  noted,  he  quickly  compassed  the 
difficult  English  speech,  and  has  effectively  mastered 
it,  so  that  he  uses  it  with  more  ability  than  the  peas- 
ant class  of  our  own  race.  Elsewhere  he  has  done 
the  like  with  all  the  tongues  of  southern  Europe. 
Considering  how  lean  and  poor  in  connotative  words 
his  aboriginal  speech  was,  this  shows  that  the  Negro 
has  great  latencies  of  power  hi  this  part  of  the  field 
of  intelligence.  It  appears  likely  that  his  native  abil- 
ity in  this  regard  is  much  above  that  of  any  people 
known  to  us  hi  the  group  of  lowly  men ;  it  proba- 
bly much  exceeds  that  of  our  own  race  when  it  was 
hi  the  savage  state. 

In  the  sesthetic  field  the  Negro,  as  might  be  judged 
from  his  African  history,  shows  no  measurable  trace 
of  a  sense  of  form,  but  he  has  a  strong  feeling  for  the 
qualities  of  color.  His  only  striking  aesthetic  capa- 


154  THE  NEIGHBOR 

city  is  for  music.  His  singing  voice  is  on  the  average 
much  better  than  that  of  any  other  well  known  race. 
How  far  this  musical  capacity  extends,  whether  it 
may  lead  them  in  the  higher  ranges  of  the  art,  is  as 
yet  uncertain.  In  the  development  to  which  it  at- 
tained in  Africa  it  shows  little  more  than  what  may 
be  termed  the  orgy  motive,  that  quality  which  ex- 
cites the  lower  nature  as  in  sexual  or  wizard  dances. 
In  the  United  States  little  trace  of  this  interesting 
music  has  been  preserved,  for  there  was  enough  of 
the  puritanic  spirit  among  the  slaveholders  to  sup- 
press it  altogether.  In  Cuba,  however,  I  have  heard 
certain  dance  music  used  by  whites  as  well  as  blacks 
in  public  balls  which  is  said  to  be  purely  African. 
It  consists  in  a  monotonous  tom-tom  basis  with  cu- 
rious flares  of  the  strings  and  wind  instruments. 
The  effect  is  at  first  very  irritating,  but  if  submitted 
to,  it  will  awaken  a  singular  primitive  sense  of  ex- 
citement, such  as  I  have  never  found  hi  any  other 
sounds.  The  fact  that  the  Negro  has  been  able  to 
devise  a  moving  kind  of  music,  even  though  it  be 
essentially  base,  appears  to  indicate  that  the  com- 
posing power  is  in  him. 

The  songs  termed  Negro  which  abound  in  this 
country  are  so  infected  by  the  white  man's  music 
that  they  cannot  be  regarded  as  in  any  distinct  way 
representing  the  musical  spirit  of  the  people.  Yet  if 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       155 

these  songs  are  closely  watched,  especially  in  their 
refrains,  we  may  detect  the  native  movement,  that 
curious  savage  swing  which  moves  the  blood  even 
of  the  super-civilized.  My  observations  lead  me  to 
the  conclusion  that  one  of  the  most  interesting  ex- 
periments that  could  be  essayed  would  be  to  train 
Negroes  in  the  musical  art.  There  is  hardly  any 
question  but  that  they  would  be  successful  as  in- 
strumentalists. Those  who  have  heard  the  dance 
music  of  Negro  bands  of  the  better  sort  and  noted 
the  capacity  of  the  untrained  minds  to  work  to- 
gether for  a  common  result,  will  not  doubt  that  they 
have  orchestral  capacity.  "Whether  they  can  attain 
to  the  higher  stages  of  interpretation  is  of  course 
uncertain,  yet  there  is  such  a  depth  of  sympathetic 
motive  in  the  folk  that  it  may  serve  to  open  this 
realm  to  them.  So  too  in  choral  music  there  is  a 
promise  of  high  success ;  especially  as  the  interpre- 
tation there  depends  largely  on  the  quality  of  the 
voices  and  on  the  immediate  sympathetic  movement 
of  the  singers. 

While  in  summing  up  the  qualities  of  the  Negro 
people  it  is  necessary  to  regard  them  as  they  appear 
hi  mass,  it  is  very  important  to  keep  well  hi  mind 
the  fact,  before  adverted  to,  that  they  are  not  of  one 
type  but  of  very  many  types,  the  racial  diversity 
being  greater  than  that  of  the  European  peoples. 


156  THE  NEIGHBOR 

These  original  tribal  and  racial  variations  have  hi 
this  country  been  hi  large  measure  lost  by  inter- 
breeding, yet,  as  I  have  elsewhere  noted,1  an  atten- 
tive observer  of  a  considerable  number  of  Negroes 
may  perceive  the  existence  of  several  distinct  groups 
each  with  a  definite  race  stamp;  for  in  man,  as 
elsewhere  hi  the  animal  kingdom,  there  is  a  mani- 
fest tendency  of  hybrid  stocks  to  revert  to  one  or 
another  of  the  stronger  commingled  types.  I  set 
much  hope  hi  the  future  of  the  Negro  on  the  exist- 
ence of  these  overlooked  diversities.  There,  as  hi 
our  own  mixed  blood,  we  may  expect  to  find  that 
from  the  commingling  there  will  come  forth  qualities 
of  strength  which  from  lack  of  opportunity  are  not 
now  apparent.  The  question  of  the  moment  is,  how- 
ever, what  have  we  in  this  ten  million  of  blacks 
which  can  be  turned  to  the  account  of  our  common- 
wealth, and  how  are  we  to  convert  it  to  that  use? 

First  of  all,  it  has  been  said  before  but  it  should 
be  said  often,  we  have  in  the  Negro  capacities  for 
affection  and  good  faith  which  of  themselves  alone 
afford  an  important  part  of  the  foundations  of  soci- 
ety. Next,  and  hardly  second,  an  ability  to  toil  which 
is  of  a  high  order  ;  such,  indeed,  as  has  never  else- 
where appeared  in  a  primitive  people.  Further,  cer- 
tain musical  powers  which  may  have  high  value, 

1  See  Journal  of  Popular  Science,  Ivi  p.  513 ;  Ivii.  p.  29. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       157 

and  are  sure  to  be  serviceable,  even  if  they  are  in- 
capable of  greater  development  than  they  now  ex- 
hibit, —  and  along  with  these  a  curious  disposition 
to  come  near  to,  and  to  profit  largely  from,  close  con- 
tact with  our  own  people.  Add  to  this  list  an  en- 
during body,  a  disposition  which  is  perhaps  more 
cheerful,  more  kindly  than  that  of  any  other  race, 
and  we  have  the  qualities  with  which  we  are  to  deal 
in  making  this  group  of  men  very  helpful  to  our 
commonwealth.  We,  the  whites  of  this  society,  have 
essentially  of  ourselves  to  do  this  task;  this  man 
cannot  give  us  much  help,  for  the  motives  that  build 
the  state  are  not  yet  in  him.  All  we  know  of  his 
history  in  Africa,  all  that  can  be  judged  from  the 
communities  where  he  controls,  shows  that  in  him 
the  state-building  capacities  are  lacking.  Certainly 
hi  its  present  and  for  any  foreseeable  period  the 
mass  of  the  blacks  will  have  to  be  guided  by  the 
whites  on  their  way  of  advance,  with  what  help  may 
be  had  from  the  stronger  individuals  of  their  own 
race  who  may  prove  fit  for  leadership. 

As  for  the  steps  by  which  the  Negroes  of  this 
country  may  be  put  on  the  way  of  attaining  their 
value  to  themselves  and  the  community,  only  cer- 
tain of  them  can  be  now  discerned.  It  is  a  long  and 
difficult  progress,  and  many  judgments  as  to  means 
will  have  to  be  gained  from  experience.  At  the 


158  THE  NEIGHBOR 

outset  it  may  be  said  that  at  present  there  is  little 
hope  that  much  aid  can  be  had  from  the  Federal 
Government.  So  far  as  aid  from  legislation  can  be 
helpful,  which  is  not  very  far,  it  will  have  to  come 
from  the  several  states  so  that  it  may  fit  the  local 
conditions.  Thus  in  Kentucky,  where  the  Negroes 
are  few,  the  laws  bearing  on  these  people,  if  such 
are  needed,  may  well  be  different  from  those  of 
Mississippi,  where  the  blacks  are  in  a  majority.  At 
present  the  main  point  is  to  make  an  end  of  the 
unhappy  frictions  which  have  come  to  separate  the 
races.  To  do  this,  it  is  necessary  to  take  the  mass  of 
the  Negroes  for  a  time  out  of  politics,  for  so  long 
as  the  dominant  whites  are  kept  in  fear  of  being 
despoiled  of  their  property  and  the  blacks  hi  hope 
of  gaining  power,  class  ill-will  is  certain  to  become 
greater  and  there  is  danger  that  it  be  made  per- 
manent. Thus  while  I  dislike  the  element  of  subter- 
fuge in  the  new  constitutions  of  the  Southern  States, 
and  would  have  much  preferred  to  see  a  qualifi- 
cation of  education  and  of  earning  power  applied 
equally  to  all,  white  or  black,  who  seek  the  franchise, 
I  welcome  the  change  for  the  reason  that  for  a 
time,  at  least,  it  promises  a  truce  to  race  hatreds. 

To  those  who  look  upon  an  abandonment  of  uni- 
versal suffrage  as  a  blow  at  our  democratic  form  of 
government,  where  it  has  come  to  be  assumed  that 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       159 

the  franchise  is  a  natural  right,  it  should  be  said 
that  the  founders  of  our  American  commonwealth 
took  no  such  view  of  the  situation ;  they  held  that 
the  office  of  the  elector  should  be  guarded  by  sun- 
dry conditions,  by  requirements  of  sex,  citizenly 
quality,  property  and  education.  Sundry  of  them 
are  everywhere  retained ;  education  has  always  been 
required  in  Massachusetts  and  its  extension  to  other 
states  is  sound  polity.  In  my  opinion  it  would  be 
well  if  the  franchise  were  universally  subjected  to  the 
further  qualification  that  candidates  for  it  should  be 
required  to  prove  a  certain  amount  of  property  or 
of  annual  earnings  in  order  to  show  that  they  were 
contributors  to  the  community.  This  in  amount 
should  be  sufficient  decently  to  support  a  family. 
There  would  be  evils  arising  from  the  application  of 
such  a  law,  yet  they  would  be  less  serious  than  those 
which  now  exist  where  a  host  of  folk  who  are  in  no 
wise  helpful  to  the  commonwealth  have  a  share  in 
ruling  it. 

Before  considering  the  steps  which  may  be  taken 
to  blend  the  social  work  of  the  Aryan  and  African 
races,  it  will  be  well  to  consider  two  matters  con- 
cerning their  contacts  that  are  of  critical  importance. 
First  of  these  is  the  question  as  to  the  desirability 
of  mingling  the  blood  of  the  two  peoples  so  that  the 
natural  antagonisms  of  race  may  be  lost  in  the  hy- 


160  THE  NEIGHBOR 

brid  product.  The  other  is  as  to  the  extent  to  which 
the  tribal  motive,  commonly  termed  race  prejudice, 
may  serve  as  a  barrier  to  the  intercourse  required  in 
the  interest  of  the  commonwealth.  As  to  the  first 
of  these  questions,  we  happily  have  a  large  body  of 
evidence  which,  though  not  hi  a  statistical  form, 
is  clear  enough  to  guide  us  to  a  decision.  Modern 
studies  into  the  conditions  of  breeding  have  shown 
that  very  generally,  both  in  animals  and  plants,  the 
crossing  of  varieties  of  the  same  species,  provided 
they  are  not  far  apart,  is  often  distinctly  benefi- 
cial, the  resulting  offspring  gaining  a  strength  and 
acquiring  an  individual  variety  which  on  many  ac- 
counts are  advantageous  to  organic  forms.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  hybridization  of  groups  so  far  apart 
that  they  may  be  termed  specifically  distinct  species 
is  almost  always  disadvantageous,  for  the  progeny 
of  such  unions  are  more  or  less  sterile  and  usually 
have  not  the  vitality  of  either  parent.  There  are 
certain  curious  limitations  to  this  rule,  as  in  the  hy- 
brid of  the  horse  and  ass,  where  the  resulting  mule, 
though  almost  absolutely  sterile,  is  more  enduring 
to  labor  than  either  parent  and  is  regarded  as  less 
subject  to  diseases.  Yet  the  fact  that  groups  are 
separated  by  that  rather  obscure  interval  which  we 
term  specific  is  safely  to  be  taken  as  indicating  that 
they  should  not  be  bred  together. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       161 

Quite  apart  from  the  investigations  of  modern 
naturalists,  we  have  the  common  judgment  that 
while  stocks  such  as  our  own  have  profited  by  an 
infusion  of  blood  of  other  related  groups,  as  the 
Saxon  with  the  Briton,  the  Celt,  or  even  the  Aryan 
with  the  Semite,  any  union  of  stocks  of  more  remote 
affinities  than  those  last  named  leads  to  degradation. 
Now  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  African  is  sepa- 
rated from  the  masterful  races  of  the  Eurasian  con- 
tinent, the  Aryans,  the  Semites,  and  the  Turanians, 
by  a  wider  interval  than  are  those  varieties  of  men 
from  one  another.  By  all  the  tests  the  naturalist 
applies  in  discriminating  species  he  is  specifically 
very  distinct;  color,  form  of  the  hair,  proportions  of 
the  frame,  odor  of  the  skin  secretions,  all  go  to  show 
that  the  groups  are  about  as  far  apart  as  the  horse  and 
ass,  the  dog  and  fox,  or  the  other  normally  separated 
species  hi  the  same  genus.  Therefore  the  presump- 
tion is  against  a  favorable  result  of  an  admixture 
of  the  African  with  any  of  the  races  above  named. 
Experience  so  far  as  it  has  been  subjected  to  any 
kind  of  scientific  analysis,  which  is  not  very  far, 
evidently  supports  this  presumption.  It  is  not  only 
a  general  belief  that  hybrids  of  blacks  and  whites 
are  less  prolific  and  more  liable  to  diseases  than  the 
pure  bloods  of  either  stock,  but  also  that  they  sel- 
dom live  so  long.  Statistics  lacking  in  this  point,  I 


162  THE  NEIGHBOR 

have  questioned  a  large  number  of  physicians  well 
placed  for  judgment  on  this  matter.  All  of  them 
agree  that  the  offspring  of  a  union  between  pure 
black  and  white  parents  is,  on  the  average,  much 
shorter  lived  and  much  less  fertile  than  the  race  of 
either  parent.  My  father,  a  physician  of  experience 
and  a  critical  observer,  who  had  spent  more  than 
half  a  century  in  Cuba  and  the  slave-holding  South, 
stated  that  in  his  opinion  he  had  never  seen  mu- 
lattos, that  is,  a  cross  between  pure  white  and  pure 
black,  who  had  attained  the  age  of  sixty  years,  and 
that  they  were  often  sterile.  The  judgment  of  medi- 
cal men  seems  to  be  that  when  the  blood  of  either 
race  preponderates,  and  in  proportion  as  it  verges 
to  one  or  the  other,  the  longevity  and  fertility  in- 
crease or  decrease. 

It  is  a  common  opinion,  held  by  the  blacks  as  well 
as  the  whites,  that  an  infusion  of  white  blood  in- 
creases the  intelligence  of  the  Negro,  while  at  the 
same  tune  lowering  his  moral  qualities.  On  this 
point  we  have  no  clear  evidence.  All  we  can  say  is 
that  in  certain  instances,  as  in  the  novelist  Dumas, 
a  considerable  proportion  of  Negro  blood,  probably 
about  one-fourth,  was  consistent  with  a  marvelously 
active  fancy  and  much  dramatic  power.  One  of  the 
distinguished  physiologists  of  the  last  century,  a 
man,  indeed,  of  rare  quality,  was  said  to  be  an  octo- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       163 

roon,  and  this  statement  seemed  to  be  verified  by  his 
aspect.  Almost  all  the  Negroes  of  this  country  who 
have  shown  marked  capacity  of  any  kind  have  had 
an  evident  mixture  of  white  blood.  On  the  other 
hand,  Banneker,  the  one  of  the  race  who  seems  to 
have  been  intellectually  a  really  great  man,  is  said 
to  have  been  a  pure  Negro.  Therefore,  while  the  evi- 
dence, such  as  it  is,  points  distinctly  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  body  of  these  hybrids  is  weakened  and 
its  fertility  impaired,  it  remains  uncertain  whether 
their  mental  and  moral  value  is  lessened  or  increased 
by  the  mingling  of  blood. 

There  are  other  sufficient  reasons  why  miscegena- 
tion cannot  be  looked  to  as  affording  a  way  out  of 
the  difficulties  of  organizing  a  commonwealth  com- 
posed of  two  races  of  widely  different  grade.  One  of 
these  is  the  existence  of  a  deep-seated,  intense  and 
apparently  ineradicable  prejudice  on  the  part  of  the 
whites  against  such  unions,  and  the  other  that  the 
process  as  is  shown  in  Hayti  and  elsewhere  does  not 
lead  to  unification  but  to  the  establishment  of  a 
third  element  of  race  discord,  the  people  of  mixed 
blood  setting  themselves  apart  from  the  pure  stocks 
on  each  side.  We  know  that  differences  of  far  less 
moment  are  readily  made  the  basis  of  social  cate- 
gories, so  that  a  division  between  the  hybrids  and 
the  pure  bloods  might  be  expected  to  arise ;  but  the 


164  THE  NEIGHBOR 

intensity  of  prejudice  as  it  exists  in  Hayti  is  sur- 
prising ;  it  shows  not  only  the  deep-seated  nature  of 
these  racial  prejudices,  but  the  practical  impossibility 
of  avoiding  them  by  any  mingling  of  the  blood  short 
of  a  complete  mixture.  We  may,  therefore,  assume 
that  the  Negroes  and  whites  are  to  remain  racially 
as  they  are,  and  that  laws  prohibiting  intermarry- 
ings  and  those  concerning  bastards  will  tend  to 
prevent  further  mingling  of  their  blood ;  also,  that 
as  the  social  condition  of  the  Negro  improves,  the 
death-rate,  which  now  somewhat  exceeds  that  of 
the  whites,  will  be  likely  to  decrease  so  that  the  pop- 
ulation of  both  races  will  augment  at  something  like 
the  same  rate.  By  the  end  of  the  present  century 
it  is  probable  that  the  number  of  those  of  African 
descent  hi  the  United  States  will  exceed  the  total 
existing  population  of  all  stocks. 

Turning  to  the  measure  of  prejudice  which  will 
have  to  be  encountered  in  dealing  with  the  Negroes, 
it  may  be  said  that  it  is  with  most  people  of  our  race 
very  intense,  far  stronger  as  a  natural  impulse  than 
that  awakened  by  any  other  race  with  whom  we 
come  in  contact,  such  as  the  American  Indians  or 
the  Chinese.  This  dislike  is  primarily  instinctive, 
and  in  no  wise  depends  on  opinions  as  to  the  quali- 
ties of  the  Negro,  as  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
several  of  the  most  devoted  friends  of  his  race  have, 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       165 

in  answer  to  my  questions,  and  confidentially,  told 
me  that  the  first  impression  made  on  them  by  con- 
tact with  a  black  was  one  of  painful  repulsion.  As 
most  people  are  very  properly  ashamed  of  this  im- 
pulse it  is  not  easy  to  obtain  evidence  as  to  its 
generality,  but  from  much  inquiry  I  am  convinced 
that  where  the  black  people  are  unfamiliar  the  be- 
holding of  them  is  inevitably  painful,  and  often  in 
a  high  measure  repellent.  The  reason  for  this  effect 
doubtless  is  that  we  form  and  continuously  retain 
images  of  how  a  human  being  should  appear ;  and 
that  these  images  include  all  the  types  with  which 
we  are  familiar.  When  a  human  shape  comes  to  us 
that  does  not  fit  these  types  it  appears  monstrous 
and  inhuman,  arousing  disgust  or  fear,  or  both.  In 
beasts  as  well  as  in  man  the  shape  of  their  kind  is 
dear  to  them  and  abnormalities  offensive.  In  Europe 
the  black  skin  makes  the  same  impression  as  with 
us,  but  Europeans  generally  see  more  varieties  of 
men  than  we  do  and  become  more  tolerant  of  the 
variations  of  human  kind. 

Fortunately  for  the  whites  as  well  as  the  blacks 
this  impression  of  abnormality  soon  disappears.  Let 
a  white  man  remain  in  friendly  intercourse  with 
Negroes  for  a  few  months  and  he  will  no  longer  note 
that  they  are  black.  It  is  much  the  same  as  with  a 
distorted  face.  At  first  it  is  abhorrent,  but  if  we  be- 


166  THE  NEIGHBOR 

come  friendly  with  the  spirit  behind  it,  we  no  longer 
note  the  distortion;  we  may  even  forget  in  what 
manner  the  countenance  is  misshapen.  It  is  an  in- 
teresting fact,  if  my  observations  on  the  matter  are 
correct,  that  the  instinctive  dislike  to  the  Negro 
disappears  much  more  quickly  than  the  prejudice 
against  other  races  less  remote  in  quality  of  body 
from  ourselves.  I  have  never  known  an  instance  in 
which  it  persisted,  provided  the  contacts  were  inti- 
mate. On  the  other  hand,  I  have  found  many  who 
were,  after  a  life-time  of  experience,  offended  by  the 
aspect  of  the  Jew,  who  differs  so  little  hi  appearance 
from  the  Aryan  that  we  are  often  in  doubt  as  to  our 
judgment  concerning  his  race.  This  swifter  recon- 
ciliation with  the  Negro  is  probably  to  be  attributed 
to  the  fact  that  he  has  adopted  the  white  man's  ways, 
as  well  as  to  his  ready  sympathies.  In  the  regions 
where  the  blacks  are  numerous  enough  to  be  familiar 
we  find  no  instinctive  prejudice  against  them.  On 
the  contrary,  there  is  still  a  large  measure  of  the 
ancient  good  will  between  the  races  which  devel- 
oped hi  the  period  of  slavery,  and  with  the  fear 
of  danger  arising  from  the  Negro  vote  eliminated, 
there  is  no  evident  reason  why  those  good  relations 
may  not  be  restored.  The  Negro  instinctively  tends 
to  seek  the  help  of  the  stronger  race ;  he  has  the 
sympathetic  nature  that  will  pay  hi  devotion  for 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       167 

that  help ;  it  will  be  the  white  man's  fault  if  they  do 
not  abide  together  in  amity. 

In  looking  forward  to  the  immediate  methods 
whereby  the  relations  between  the  blocks  and  whites 
may  be  bettered,  it  seems  obvious  that  the  first  step 
should  be  to  develop  the  citizenly  capabilities  of  the 
blacks  along  those  lines  of  endeavor  for  which  their 
peculiarities  fit  them.  For  the  most  part  I  do  not 
believe  that  the  Negroes  at  present  need  or  can 
profit  by  much  of  what  is  ordinarily  termed  the 
highest  education.  Save  hi  rare  instances,  there  is 
nothing  to  be  gained  by  pushing  them  towards  the 
professions.  Those  thus  trained  cannot,  at  present, 
expect  to  find  their  way  to  satisfactory  employment. 
Where  a  youth  fit  for  professional  work  appears,  he 
should  be  trained  in  colleges  with  the  whites.  In 
general,  the  only  way  up  for  this  people  is  through 
agriculture  and  the  handicrafts.  That  is,  indeed, 
the  sole  way  that  a  primitive  folk  have  ever  won 
upward  to  better  stations. 

Although  the  Negro  is  less  inventive  than  the 
Chinaman,  his  imitative  capacity  is  large  and  he  can 
be  trained  to  be  an  excellent  mechanic.  He  is  a 
lover  of  the  soil  and  can  make  a  good  farmer.  The 
Negro  overseers  on  the  small  plantations  of  the 
South  showed  in  this  regard  much  ability.  The 
women,  though  naturally  slovenly,  are  eminently 


168  THE  NEIGHBOR 

trainable;  they  have,  as  is  well-known,  a  capacity 
for  cooking;  they  have  the  instincts  that  fit  them 
to  be  nurses.  It  is  to  such  training,  with  the  neces- 
sary rudimentary  schooling,  that  we  have  to  look  for 
the  immediate  development  of  this  folk.  The  best 
part  of  the  present  unhappy  transitional  state  of  the 
Negroes  is  that  this  need  of  craft-education  is  begin- 
ning to  be  appreciated  by  the  people  of  this  coun- 
try. We  owe  much  of  this  gain  to  General  Arm- 
strong and  to  Booker  Washington,  men  who  saw 
the  need  and  went  straight  forth  to  meet  it;  but 
the  schools  and  the  masters  are  all  too  few.  There 
should  be  a  quarter  of  a  million  youths  of  the  race 
now  learning  trades,  while  there  is  less  than  a  hun- 
dredth part  of  that  number  thus  engaged.  The  ex- 
penditure required  for  the  effective  trade  education 
of  the  Negroes  would  be  large.  Allowing  the  net 
cost  of  pupils  in  technical  schools  to  be  no  more 
than  two  hundred  dollars  per  capita,  and  the  dura- 
tion of  the  schooling  to  be  two  years,  the  annual 
cost  of  training  the  above-mentioned  number  would 
be  fifty  million  dollars.  Though  this  sum  could  be 
profitably  spent,  it  is  perhaps  impossibly  large.  The 
question  arises  whether  the  end  cannot  in  some 
measure  be  accomplished  by  a  return  to  the  old  sys- 
tem of  apprenticeship  which  has  been  so  generally 
abandoned  hi  our  white  communities.  There  are, 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       169 

however,  serious  objections  to  this  method  in  the 
fear  the  Negroes  would  most  likely  feel  that  there 
was  a  taint  of  the  old  slavery  in  the  relation ;  more- 
over the  trade-unions  generally  refuse  to  admit  the 
blacks  into  shops  where  their  members  work.  Ap- 
parently the  only  immediately  effective  way  rapidly 
to  extend  this  training  is  by  establishing  local  day 
schools  of  such  trades  as  carpentry  and  blacksmith- 
big  in  the  towns,  and  by  such  training  in  farming  as 
can  be  given  in  schools  of  agriculture. 

Although  the  Negro  lacks  any  considerable  eco- 
nomic foresight  he  is  fortunately  rather  acquisitive, 
being  in  this  regard  as  in  most  others  better  mate- 
rial for  the  uses  of  civilization  than  the  abler  Ameri- 
can Indian.  Already  many  of  them  are  accumu- 
lating wealth.  It  is  evident  that  in  them  the  gainful 
motive  can  be  developed  in  something  like  the  pro- 
portion that  it  has  among  the  whites.  If  the  fran- 
chise were  made  to  depend  upon  the  possession  of 
property  it  would  greatly  aid  in  stimulating  this 
motive.  Dr.  Johnson  held  that  men  were  rarely  so 
well  employed  as  when  they  were  earning  money. 
His  statement  is  particularly  true  with  the  Negro, 
for  more  than  any  other  man  he  needs  the  effects 
of  a  full  purse.  From  it  he  will  win  the  sense  of 
station  which  is  denied  him  in  politics.  Property 
would,  indeed,  give  him  a  place  in  the  world  that  he 


170  THE  NEIGHBOR 

can  attain  in  no  other  way.  In  a  community  with 
an  average  share  of  well-to-do  blacks  we  may  be 
sure  that  the  contempt  of  the  whites  for  the  capaci- 
ties of  the  race  —  the  most  menacing  element  in  the 
present  situation — will  pass  away,  for  the  folk  will 
thereby  prove  themselves  respectable. 

To  further  the  accumulation  of  property  by  the 
Negroes  it  is  most  desirable  that  a  system  of  savings 
banks  should  be  instituted  in  the  Southern  States. 
The  lamentable  incident  of  the  banks  of  the  Freed- 
man's  Bureau,  still  well  remembered,  has  made  it  im- 
practicable to  establish  any  like  institution;  more- 
over, the  general  economic  conditions  of  the  South  are 
adverse  to  such  an  establishment.  The  only  effective 
way  is  to  have  the  Federal  Government  take,  through 
the  post-offices,  the  savings  of  the  people,  giving  them 
the  ample  security  which  it  alone  can  offer.  There 
are  objections  to  this  plan,  but  the  most  serious 
of  these  would  pass  if  the  rural  postmasters  were 
well-selected  and  permanent  officials.  The  needs  are 
such  as  should  compel  our  Federal  Government  to 
lend  this  help.  At  present  the  Negro  who  is  inclined 
to  save  is  subject,  while  the  money  is  hi  his  hands,  to 
the  temptations  of  the  moment.  He  rarely  has  the 
fortitude  to  accumulate  until  he  is  able  to  make  his 
first  payment  for  a  bit  of  land.  A  chance  to  have 
the  Government  his  banker  would  greatly  appeal  to 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       171 

him.  For,  while  he  has  had  little  but  disappointments 
in  the  way  of  expectations  of  Federal  aid,  that  power 
still  mightily  appeals  to  his  imagination.  Here  we 
find  the  only  practicable  help  that  the  Government 
can,  hi  the  present  condition  of  affairs,  afford  to 
offer  the  South ;  the  offering  would  not  of  course 
relate  to  the  Negro  as  a  class,  though  the  warrant 
for  it  comes  mainly  from  his  needs. 

It  is  highly  desirable  that  a  considerable  part  of 
the  Negroes  should  become  land-owners,  for  thereby 
they  will  be  established  as  citizens,  with  an  interest 
hi  the  commonwealth.  In  the  present  state  of  their 
ideals,  however,  it  has  to  be  confessed  that  there  is 
some  danger  in  the  development  of  a  cotter  class  hi 
the  South,  for,  with  rare  exceptions,  whenever  a  black 
man  owns  a  place  he  neglects  it ;  he  is  usually  con- 
tent with  a  dirty  shanty,  and  while  he  has  much  nat- 
ural faculty  for  the  immediate  tasks  of  the  farmer, 
his  lack  of  foresight  leads  him  to  wear  out  his  fields. 
As  is  well  known,  the  lands  of  the  South  have  been 
sorely  taxed  by  bad  agriculture,  though  of  late  years 
there  has  been  a  very  great  improvement  in  this 
regard.  There  is  evidently  reason  to  fear  further 
depredations  from  an  extended  possession  of  the  soil 
by  the  Negroes.  Here  we  shall  have  to  trust  to  the 
imitative  motives  of  the  race  and  to  the  training 
of  a  minority  of  them  in  the  art  of  farming,  with  the 


172  THE  NEIGHBOR 

hope  that  the  contagion  of  example  may  help  the 
conditions. 

While  it  is  evident  that  the  Federal  and  even  the 
State  Governments  can  do  little  to  better  the  situation 
of  the  Negro,  he  should  by  no  means  be  left  alone  to 
"  work  out  his  own  salvation."  Unlike  the  most  of 
the  people  who  come  to  us  from  Europe  his  race  is 
not  provided  with  the  motives  that  lead  to  safety. 
His  elevation  and  maintenance,  so  far  as  we  can  see 
for  all  time,  absolutely  depend  upon  the  help  he  is  to 
receive  from  the  state  building  race.  In  larger  part 
this  help  will  have  to  come  from  day-by-day  precept 
and  example,  as  it  came  to  him  in  the  centuries  of 
slavery  with  another  accent  but  with  like  efficiency. 
In  part  it  may  best  be  given  by  means  of  local  asso- 
ciations, mainly  composed  of  the  whites,  but  admit- 
ting the  abler  blacks,  which  shall,  hi  the  manner  of 
the  Village  Improvement  Association  now  so  com- 
mon in  the  North,  undertake  to  care  for  the  con- 
ditions of  conveniently  limited  districts.  Without 
legal  power  but  with  the  support  of  public  opinion, 
such  societies  could  do  much  to  uplift  the  conditions 
of  the  people  within  their  fields  of  action.  They 
would  better  the  sanitary  condition  of  the  Negro 
settlements,  which  even  in  the  rural  districts  is  uni- 
formly very  bad.  They  would  make  a  beginning  in 
various  lines  of  improvement,  as  by  f urnishing  simple 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       173 

architectural  plans  for  cottages,  so  that  the  blacks, 
and  the  lower  class  of  whites  as  well,  may  have 
dwellings  that  contribute  to  the  ordinary  decencies 
of  life.  At  a  trifling  net  cost,  which  might  not  ex- 
ceed three  or  four  hundred  dollars  per  annum,  they 
could  establish  small  model  farms  on  the  cotter  scale, 
say  of  twenty  or  thirty  acres  in  extent,  where  the 
people  could  see  the  advantages  of  good  methods  of 
tilling.  Whenever  a  Negro  man  or  woman  rose  above 
the  herd  he  or  she  should  be  associated  in  this 
work.  There  could  be  no  stronger  incentive  leading 
to  advancement  than  the  hope  of  joining  such  an 
association,  and  those  so  placed  would  be  useful 
helpers,  for  they  would  greatly  influence  their  class. 
It  should  not  be  supposed  that  it  requires  a  large 
number  of  distinctly  public-spirited  people  to  found 
and  maintain  a  betterment  association.  Experience 
shows  that  there  as  elsewhere  one  man  or  woman  of 
leading  quality  leads,  the  others  follow  until  the  mo- 
tive is  established  in  the  hearts  of  many,  and  the 
continuance  of  the  work  is  assured. 

I  am  so  far  convinced  that  the  chance  of  better- 
ment in  the  conditions  of  the  Southern  Negroes 
largely  depends  upon  the  institution  of  associa- 
tions such  as  I  have  suggested,  unions  that  have 
proved  their  value  elsewhere,  that  I  shall  go  a  step 
further  and  consider  the  ways  in  which  the  work 


174  THE  NEIGHBOR 

may  be  begun.  The  main  difficulty  in  the  way  of 
a  beginning  is  to  convince  the  class  of  people  on 
which  such  work  must  fall  of  the  advantages  of  the 
method.  The  Southerners  are  a  conservative  folk 
and  look  askance  on  innovations,  especially  when 
they  come  from  the  North.  Therefore  it  seems  well 
to  begin  the  task  by  means  of  a  little  central  asso- 
ciation, composed  of  a  few  earnest  persons  from 
both  North  and  South,  which  shall  have  for  its  pur- 
pose the  fostering  of  such  local  improvement  socie- 
ties. This  help  should  mainly  consist  of  suggestions 
and  advice  to  collaborators  who  are  willing  to  work 
hi  particular  fields.  In  time  it  would  be  advanta- 
geous if  the  central  association  could  make  small 
money  grants  to  supplement  the  means  gathered  by 
the  local  societies  for  such  expenses  as  would  have 
to  be  met  in  founding  model  farms.  Grants  of  this 
kind  made  by  the  State  have  proved  in  Massachu- 
setts an  effective  means  of  furthering  the  establish- 
ment and  maintenance  of  efficient  agricultural  socie- 
ties. Although  in  general  it  will  be  well  here,  as  hi 
all  other  work  of  like  nature,  to  trust  mainly  to 
local  interest,  it  will  be  most  likely  advantageous  to 
have  these  societies  united  with  the  central  board 
meeting  by  delegates  once  each  year.  The  cost  of 
administering  such  an  association  would  be  but 
small,  and  the  recompense  perhaps  greater  than  in 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       175 

any  other  educational  work  called  for  by  the  states 
of  the  South. 

Although  it  is,  on  many  accounts,  desirable  that 
the  abler  Negroes  come  to  be  holders  of  land,  it  is 
important  that  no  artificial  inducements  be  offered 
to  hasten  this  process,  for  it  will  bring  with  it  a 
certain  risk.  The  effect  will  be,  in  a  measure,  to 
withdraw  the  cotter  class  from  that  immediate  con- 
tact with  the  whites  to  which  we  have  to  look  for 
their  further  development.  At  present  there  is  an 
intermediate  condition  which,  on  the  whole,  is  ad- 
vantageous. In  this  the  Negro  leases  his  land  from 
a  large  proprietor  and  generally  receives  from  him 
plows,  seed,  etc.,  and  sometimes  an  advance  pay- 
ment in  the  way  of  food ;  at  the  end  of  the  year  the 
crop  is  divided  between  landlord  and  tenant.  It  is 
an  ancient  system,  one  much  in  use  in  the  South 
before  the  Civil  War,  when  the  lease-holders  were 
usually  poor  whites.  In  form  it  exactly  corresponds 
to  the  metayer  system,  commonly  found  in  Italy, 
save  that  there  the  relation  becomes  permanent  and 
the  holding  passes  onward  to  the  eldest  son  of  the 
tenant.  From  personal  observation  of  these  tenant 
farmers  in  Tuscany,  I  am  satisfied  that  the  method 
is  on  the  whole  better  for  them  and  for  the  land 
than  the  French  system  where  the  laborer  owns  the 
ground  he  tills.  The  fields  are  better  cared  for  by 


176  THE  NEIGHBOR 

well-trained  stewards  than  they  would  be  by  peasant 
proprietors,  and  the  tenants  keep  in  a  wholesome 
friendly  touch  with  a  superior  class.  If  this  relation 
can  be  made  such  that  the  work  of  the  Negro  is 
thus  well  supervised,  and  he  is  at  the  same  tune 
secure  in  his  tenancy,  it  will  be  more  helpful  to  him 
than  individual  ownership  can  at  present  be. 

There  is  evidently  a  tendency  in  the  South  to 
fence  the  Negro  around  with  certain  social  barriers. 
This  is  commonly  taken  to  indicate  an  immediate 
dislike  to  his  color,  features,  and  peculiar  specific 
odor,  which  impress  those  who  are  not  accustomed 
to  his  presence, — hi  fact,  it  arises  from  a  natural 
desire  to  keep  the  two  races  socially  apart.  Within 
reasonable  limits,  this  is  advantageous  to  the  inter- 
ests of  both  races,  for  with  the  assumption  that  in- 
termarriage is  impossible  it  is  clearly  best  to  establish 
certain  convenient  lines  of  demarcation  which  shall 
show  that  the  societies  are  to  be  separate.  It  is, 
however,  desirable  that  these  barriers  be  not  made 
hi  the  manner  of  those  that  limit  the  Hindu  castes, 
where  to  touch  another  means  pollution,  but  that 
they  should  be,  like  the  other  conventions  of  inter- 
course, left  as  far  as  may  be  to  the  good  sense  of 
individuals.  It  is,  for  instance,  desirable  to  separate 
the  blacks  and  whites  in  public  conveyances,  but  I 
have  been  glad  to  see,  even  in  the  far  South,  that 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       177 

where  there  was  but  one  smoking  car,  the  Negroes, 
if  well-behaved,  were  allowed  to  sit  with  the  whites. 
At  present  some  of  the  fanatical  spirits  of  the 
South  are  much  exercised  over  the  matter  of  whites 
eating  with  the  Negroes,  and  to  judge  from  their 
fiery  talk  one  would  suppose  that  the  preservation 
of  the  white  race  depended  on  making  this  vile  and 
unnatural  crime  impossible.  A  little  consideration 
of  the  matter  should  convince  these  people  that  they 
are  unnecessarily  disturbed.  In  the  first  place,  if 
they  were  really  the  heirs  of  the  ancient  traditions 
of  slave-holding  days  they  would  know  that  it  was 
common  enough  then  for  the  master's  children  to 
eat  with  the  blacks  and  to  slip  away  to  some  table 
hi  the  quarter  where  they  were  sure  of  much  more 
importance  than  at  the  family  board.  I  remember 
having  been  well  chastised  when  about  twelve  years 
of  age  for  breaking  the  rule  that  I  should  no  longer 
eat  with  the  servants.  This  rule  was  not  made  to 
secure  social  distinction,  for  no  one  of  the  slave- 
holding  class  would  have  dreamed  that  there  was 
such  a  need,  but  to  prevent  the  child  from  retain- 
ing the  Negro  accent.  In  the  South  this  evil  had 
to  be  guarded  against,  as  in  England  the  matter  of 
the  Cockney  forms  of  speech.  In  those  days  it  would 
not  have  occurred  to  a  gentleman  to  eat  with  a  Negro 
any  more  than  to  ask  a  dirty  white  laborer  in  his 


178  THE  NEIGHBOR 

shirt  sleeves  to  sit  with  him  at  table.  The  "poor 
whites  "  then,  as  now,  held  to  this  caste  distinction 
as  sacred.  But  as  I  knew  that  interesting  ancient, 
the  Southern  gentleman,  the  only  thing  certain  to 
have  led  him  to  "  eat  with  a  nigger "  would  have 
been  the  threat  of  being  ostracized  for  the  act. 

There  is  a  fair  instance  of  the  state  of  mind  of 
the  Southern  aristocrat  in  the  matter  of  eating  with 
blacks,  one  that  I  commend  to  the  attention  of 
people  who  think  they  are  striving  to  uphold  the 
spirit  of  the  olden  days.  "When  the  commissioners 
charged  with  laying  out  the  District  of  Columbia 
at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  came  to  do 
their  task,  they  invited  the  almanac  maker  and  sur- 
veyor, Banneker,  who  dwelt  not  far  from  the  area,  to 
take  part  hi  the  work.  Banneker  was  a  full-blooded 
Negro,  having  been  a  slave  hi  the  family  of  the 
Elliots  of  Maryland,  and  it  is  said  that  when  he  pur- 
chased an  annuity  of  his  master  he  reckoned  the 
price  on  a  life  table  of  his  own  computation.  When, 
as  they  worked  together,  it  came  to  dinner  time, 
the  commissioners  asked  their  black  guest  to  eat 
with  them.  He  sensibly  asked  to  eat  apart.  These 
commissioners  were  gentlemen  from  Virginia  and 
Maryland;  it  is  evident  that  the  Negro  by  nature 
belonged  in  the  same  social  class.  So  far  as  I  have 
been  able  to  find,  this  incident  led  to  no  public 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       179 

comment ;  no  one  thought  of  blaming  the  white  men 
for  doing  the  obviously  right  thing. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  this  tendency  to  set 
off  the  Negroes  as  a  caste  is  limited  to  the  Southern 
States.  It  is  quite  as  evident  in  the  Northern  part  of 
this  country  and  leads  to  some  excesses  not  found 
in  the  South.  I  have  been  warned  by  an  agent  not 
to  let  a  house  in  Cambridge,  Massachusetts,  to  a 
worthy  Negro,  for  the  reason  that  it  would  gravely 
harm  the  property,  and  experience  proved  that  the 
agent  was  right.  I  have  known  of  a  lady  being  re- 
quested not  to  bring  her  black  waiting-maid  to  a 
Northern  house  where  she  was  to  visit,  inquiry  dis- 
closing the  reason  to  be  that  the  owner  would  have 
to  refurnish  the  room  where  the  maid  was  to  sleep. 
It  is,  in  a  word,  evident  that  we  are  verging  on  the 
establishment  of  a  most  absurd  custom  by  which  we 
shall  deny  the  very  foundation  of  our  modern  life, 
the  plain  Christian,  common-sense  truth  that  our 
fellow-men  are  to  be  taken  for  what  they  are,  and 
that  they  are  not  to  be  offended  if  we  can  spare  them 
offense.  It  is  not  likely  that  any  such  caste  system 
can  be  approved  in  this  country,  for  the  reason  that 
the  modern  gentleman  of  the  South,  like  his  ances- 
tors, is  not  a  man  to  be  dictated  to ;  he  does  not  like 
rules  of  conduct,  and  without  his  cooperation  it  will 
be  impossible  to  establish  this  iniquity. 


180  THE  NEIGHBOR 

It  is  well  to  understand  that  the  experiment  of 
combining  in  a  democratic  society,  in  somewhere 
near  equal  numbers,  two  such  widely  separated 
races  as  the  Aryans  and  Negroes,  has  never  been 
essayed.  Even  under  arbitrary  governments  the  as- 
sociation of  less  discrepant  folk  has  proved  imprac- 
ticable. Thus  many  peoples  of  Europe  have  found 
the  Jews  insufferable  and  have  been  willing  to  in- 
cur the  losses  their  expulsion  has  brought  about; 
within  a  decade  Russia  has  taken  this  course.  It 
may  as  well  be  confessed  that  a  true  democracy, 
social  as  well  as  political,  is  impossible  in  such  con- 
ditions, and  that  any  adjustment  which  may  be 
effected  must  have  many  of  the  qualities  of  an  oli- 
garchy. There  is  some  comfort  hi  the  knowledge 
that  a  complete  democracy  can  be  no  more  than 
an  ideal  in  any  modern  state ;  it  has  never  existed 
in  any  society  large  enough  properly  to  be  termed 
a  state.  In  all  effective  commonwealths  the  con- 
trol has  resided  in  the  few  abler  citizens  who  have 
shaped  for  the  weaker  masses.  The  main  ami  of 
our  actual  democracies  is  to  give  every  man  a  chance 
to  win  as  far  as  his  capacities  allow  him  to  go,  care 
being  taken  that  his  effort  to  get  onward  does  not 
harm  his  neighbor  or  the  commonwealth.  As  to 
the  social  status  of  the  man,  all  but  the  most  fla- 
grant idealists  hold  that  the  state  can  take  no  account 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       181 

of  it.  Moreover,  the  notion,  originally  French,  that 
the  male  citizen  has,  by  birthright,  a  rightful  share 
in  the  political  control  of  the  commonwealth  has 
not  been  generally  accepted.  Although  most  of  the 
states  of  this  Union  have  abolished,  or  not  insti- 
tuted, the  qualification  that  electors  should  own 
property,  this  has  not  been  done  so  much  for  the 
sake  of  justice  as  for  expediency.  Therefore  the 
changes  in  the  suffrage  in  the  Southern  States,  and 
the  further  change  introducing  a  property  qualifi- 
cation for  the  franchise,  which  in  my  opinion  will 
soon  be  required,  though  a  departure  from  recent 
usage,  will  not  be  an  innovation  hi  our  system  of 
government  With  a  system  in  which  the  vote  is 
given  to  blacks  and  whites  alike  on  the  basis  of  edu- 
cation and  property,  there  is  no  reason  why  a  trust- 
worthy electorate  cannot  be  obtained. 

It  should  be  observed  that  in  the  South  at  least 
there  has  never  been  any  general  objection  on  the 
part  of  white  men  to  working  with  Negroes.  In  cot- 
ton mills  and  other  like  establishments  where  the 
operators  are  women  and  children  such  objection 
exists,  and  blacks  are  not  tolerated  there  save  to  do 
the  work  of  porters.  But  in  the  fields  the  two  races 
have  always  worked  together  and  do  so  to-day  with- 
out any  friction  whatever.  In  certain  instances  the 
white  man  may  work  under  the  control  of  the  black 


182  THE  NEIGHBOR 

and  the  relation  excite  no  comment.  Thus  in  a  min- 
ing property  hi  a  Southern  State,  where  iron  ore  is 
taken  from  open  pits  by  contractors,  I  found  a  Negro 
"boss"  supervising  a  gang  in  which  there  were 
several  white  men,  one  of  them  known  to  me  as  an 
ex-Confederate  soldier  of  decayed  gentleman  stock. 
I  asked  the  superintendent  of  the  property  if  the 
relation  had  led  to  any  trouble.  He  said  that  I  was 
the  first  person  who  had  spoken  of  it  to  him,  though 
it  had  existed  for  some  weeks.  With  the  ordinary 
business  relations  between  the  men  of  the  two  races 
well  established,  it  should  be  a  matter  of  no  difficulty 
for  them  to  unite  their  action  hi  the  business  of 
government.  This  union,  indeed,  now  effectively 
exists.  The  so-called  Democratic  party  of  the  South, 
really  the  aristocratic  party  there,  has  never  hesi- 
tated to  cooperate  in  citizenly  work  with  the  Ne- 
groes. Unless  the  caste  insanity  should  go  far,  we 
may  trust  the  good  sense  of  the  people  to  maintain 
this  wholesome  relation.  With  this  arrangement 
the  first  stage  of  the  commonwealth's  work  can  be 
accomplished. 

When  it  comes  to  the  matter  of  holding  public 
office,  we  find  ourselves  in  face  of  the  worst  evi- 
dence of  the  caste  feeling  that  has  appeared.  Men 
who  are  willing  to  work  with  the  Negro  hi  the  fields 
and  hi  caucuses  and  to  welcome  him  at  the  ballot- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       183 

box  are  disposed  to  deny  him  all  share  of  the  other 
service  to  the  State  in  legislatures  or  offices  filled  by 
appointment  or  election.  It  is  not  likely  that  this 
limitation  will  commend  itself  to  the  sober  judgment 
of  the  Southern  people.  If  the  Negro  is  to  be  given 
rights  in  the  political  work  of  the  commonwealth  at 
all,  and  it  is  not  openly  proposed  to  withhold  the 
franchise  if  he  meets  the  tests,  then  there  can  be  no 
just  limitation  of  those  rights  on  account  of  his  race. 
As  regards  all  political  offices,  whether  filled  by 
election  or  appointment,  he  should  in  justice  stand 
equally  with  the  white  man,  on  the  basis  of  the 
choice  of  the  electorate  or  the  judgment  of  the  ap- 
pointing and  confirming  power.  To  take  any  other 
ground  than  this  is  to  traverse  either  our  birthright 
or  our  sense  of  justice. 

I  note  in  the  debates  concerning  certain  recent 
Federal  appointments  of  Negroes  that  some  of  the 
critics  of  those  appointments  take  the  ground  that 
they  are  properly  objectionable  to  the  whites,  in  that 
they  bring  them  into  intimate  relations  with  Ne- 
groes. I  know  something  of  the  necessary  relations 
with  the  two  groups  of  public  servants,  postmasters 
and  revenue  officers,  and  know  that  they  are  far  less 
intimate  than  those  I  have  had  with  blacks  who 
served  me  in  other  ways.  I  cannot  imagine  a  South- 
ern gentleman  really  offended  by  the  contacts  he  is 


184  THE  NEIGHBOR 

required  to  have  with  such  functionaries,  though  I 
can  well  conceive  that  he  would  dislike  a  system 
which  gave  'such  places  of  honor  or  profit  to  the 
inferior  race  and  not  to  his  own.  I  am  convinced, 
however,  that  if  he  has  not  lost  his  ancient  sense 
of  political  expediency  he  will  if  it  be  necessary 
accept  this  situation  because  of  the  hard  logic  that 
supports  it.  It  may  be  said,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  appointment  of  Negroes  to  office  is  fitly  to  be 
regarded  as  of  doubtful  expediency  in  any  commu- 
nity where  a  strong  dislike  to  their  presence  in  posi- 
tions of  control  exists.  If,  for  any  reason,  however 
ill-judged,  a  white  or  a  black  man  offends  a  notable 
part  of  the  people  while  an  equally  good  man  of  an- 
other color  would  offend  none,  the  unobjectionable 
man  should  be  chosen.  In  other  words,  it  is  no  part 
of  the  business  of  a  government  to  educate  people 
in  matters  of  prejudice,  and  any  effort  to  attain  this 
end  is  likely  to  increase  the  evil  it  tries  to  remedy. 
It  may  be  said  that  to  deny  a  black  man  an  appoint- 
ment, because  he  is  black,  is  to  recognize  the  ine- 
quality established  by  prejudices ; .  but  we  have  to 
accept  such  inequalities,  much  as  we  may  regret 
them.  We  do  so  when  a  foreign  court  refuses  to 
receive  an  American  minister  who  is  a  Jew,  though 
the  court  may  do  wrong  to  reject  the  man  on  that 
account.  The  Southern  whites  do  wrong  to  contend 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       185 

against  the  appointment  of  a  worthy  Negro  to  a 
Federal  office,  but  it  appears  to  me  also  an  error  of 
judgment  to  put  officials  in  places  where  their  pre- 
sence will  prove  exasperating  to  any  part  of  the  peo- 
ple, be  they  white  or  black.  The  safe  course  is  to 
wait  for  the  time  of  reason  which  is  sure  to  come  to 
men. 

The  main  point  of  my  contention  is  that  it  is 
necessary  to  avoid  the  existing  risk  of  developing 
a  caste  difference  between  the  Negroes  and  the 
Aryans.  In  every  country  class  differences  must  ex- 
ist, and  they  inevitably  tend  to  become  great  Yet 
amongst  us,  as  in  the  slave-holding  days,  the  con- 
ditions need  not  prevent  good  human  relationships 
from  existing  between  the  two  races,  as  a  caste  bar- 
rier does,  but  may,  by  affirming  the  social  interval, 
make  the  development  of  understandings  easier  and 
more  helpful  to  both  races.  If  political  disturbances 
are  avoided  there  is  good  reason  to  hope  that  these 
widely  diverse  peoples  will,  in  part  because  of  their 
diversity,  come  into  accord.  This  accord  will  be 
more  speedily  attained  if  the  steps  leading  to  it  are 
left  to  be  taken  without  much  discussion,  so  that 
the  adjustment  be  as  by  a  natural  process.  I  should, 
indeed,  be  glad  if  the  whole  matter  could  for  a  time 
pass  out  of  public  debate,  leaving  aside  the  settle- 
ment of  all  details  until  the  main  need  of  bringing 


186  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  two  races  into  spontaneous  citizenly  cooperation 
had  been  accomplished. 

The  few  and  scanty  suggestions  that  I  have  felt 
able  to  make  concerning  the  Negro  problem  should 
not  lead  the  reader  to  suppose  that  it  is  simple  and 
to  be  easily  solved.  It  is  clearly  not  only  the  most 
difficult  our  race  has  encountered,  but  of  an  order 
of  difficulty  that  has  never  been  met  in  any  other 
commonwealth.  There  is  in  it  an  age  of  vexation 
and  trial,  and  doubtless  much  of  failure,  before  a 
wholesome  solution  can  be  attained ;  the  costs  already 
incurred  may  be  manifolded  before  we  are  done. 
Yet  I  am  not  with  those  who  lament  that  this  bur- 
den is  laid  upon  us,  for  I  see  that  in  bearing  it  we 
may  win  to  station  such  as  no  people  has  attained. 
I  believe  that  the  capacity  to  deal  with  this  matter 
is  in  the  Southern  people.  They  did  a  like  work 
when  they  took  the  various  stocks  of  Africans  as  sav- 
ages and  shaped  their  slavery  so  that  those  peoples 
were  swiftly  lifted  to  a  far  better  moral  estate  than 
they  have  acquired  elsewhere,  making  them,  as  we 
know  by  the  best  of  proof,  their  friends,  while  they 
in  turn  gained  from  the  task  a  quality  as  men  and 
citizens  such  as  is  won  only  by  faithful  service  to 
high  aims.  I  know  that  they  met  in  the  Civil  War 
the  gravest  crises  of  modern  tunes  with  a  valiant 
devotion.  I  differed  with  them  hi  purpose,  but  share 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       187 

with  all  men  in  admiration  of  their  devotion  to 
what  they  saw  to  be  their  duty.  I  believe,  moreover, 
that  much  of  what  these  Southern  people  retained  of 
the  race  strength,  and  what  of  enlarged  powers  was 
added  to  it,  was  due  to  the  generations  of  care  for 
the  primitive  folk  who  had  been  committed  to  their 
hands.  The  burden  of  the  future  is  great,  but  there 
are  men  to  shoulder  it. 

Let  me  urge  the  point,  that  in  considering  the 
patent  ills  of  slavery  we  have  generally  overlooked 
the  good  the  institution  wrought  to  master  and  slave 
alikt • :  it  lifted  a  savage  race  nearer  and  more  rap- 
idly towards  civilization  than  had  ever  before  been 
accomplished,  and  it  gave  to  the  people  who  did  the 
work  a  peculiar  moral  training.  We  all  recognize 
the  effect  of  leadership,  of  mastering  and  guiding  in- 
feriors ;  we  see  its  effects  on  parents,  on  captains  of 
every  kind,  and  know  that  a  man  grows  by  his  care 
of  others.  As  I  remember  the  elders  of  the  slave- 
holding  class,  I  recall  something  of  their  occasional 
brutality  and  much  of  the  odd  mixture  of  degra- 
dation and  splendor  which  characterized  them,  but 
the  strongest  impression  is  of  men  and  women  who 
were  sorely  burdened  by  the  grave  responsibility  of 
keeping  their  hosts  of  semi-savages  in  decent  ways 
BO  that  they  might  live  Christian  lives.  I  see  that 
where  there  was  the  struggle  to  accomplish  this  dif- 


188  THE  NEIGHBOR 

ficult  task  the  Southern  family  held  its  place ;  where 
it  was  lacking  it  became  debased  and  fell  into  the 
unhappy  state  of  the  decayed  gentry  class.  I  recog- 
nize that  in  no  other  social  condition  was  the  sur- 
vival of  the  fittest  so  evident  as  in  slave-holding,  and 
that  as  a  result  it  developed  a  body  of  natural  lead- 
ers, strong  men  who  had  won  their  way  by  quality 
of  leadership  handed  down  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration. 

The  result  of  these  conditions  of  slavery  is  that 
we  have  hi  the  South  a  body  of  men  who  are  fitted 
to  take  charge  of  a  situation  which  is  not  very  differ- 
ent from  that  their  fathers  met.  They  are  now,  in- 
deed, dealing  with  it  in  a  fairly  effective  manner,  for 
despite  all  the  rumors  of  class  wars,  the  occasional 
shocking  incidents  of  lynch  law,  and  the  abomina- 
tions of  the  peonage  system  in  Alabama,  the  South 
is  at  this  moment  laborious  and  prosperous,  perhaps 
more  so  than  any  other  part  of  the  world.  These 
leaders  of  inherited  captaincy  are  effectively  and 
silently  at  work.  They  have  no  more  desire  to  rees- 
tablish slavery  than  have  the  sons  of  the  abolitionists, 
for  they  see  that  the  Negro  is  a  cheaper  economical 
agent  as  a  free  man  than  he  was  as  a  slave.  I 
know  many  of  these  men  well,  and  their  only  pur- 
pose is  to  make  the  best  of  the  existing  social  order 
with  no  thought  of  return  to  the  old.  I  am  con- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       189 

vinced  that  if  the  proposition  to  restore  slavery  could 
be  submitted  to  the  whites  of  the  South  it  would 
not  obtain  one  per  cent  of  the  white  vote.  It  is  to 
these  men  of  the  class  educated  in  the  management 
of  the  Negroes  that  we  have  to  look  for  the  work 
to  be  done.  Personally  I  look  to  them  for  the  doing 
with  great  confidence,  for  what  the  forefathers  have 
shown  of  political  wisdom  may  fairly  be  expected 
from  the  sons.  In  my  opinion  the  task  has  to  be  left 
in  their  hands  with  such  slight  help  as  the  people 
of  the  North  can  lend,  not  by  legislation,  but  out  of 
sympathy. 

The  need  of  abandoning  Federal  legislation  con- 
cerning the  Negroes  has,  at  length,  after  a  genera- 
tion of  blundering,  become  apparent  to  our  people, 
as  is  evident  from  the  neglect  of  a  Republican  Con- 
gress to  go  further  on  the  mistaken  way.  Each  of 
those  enactments  which  were  intended  to  help  the 
Negro  onward  has  served  to  hinder  his  advance,  for 
the  reason  that  they  have  diverted  him  from  his  im- 
mediate duties  and  filled  his  mind  with  hopes  of 
some  vague  beneficence  that  was  to  better  his  lot. 
Like  all  primitive  folk,  the  Negro  tends  to  look  afar 
in  this  world  or  the  next  for  some  miracle  that  may 
help  him  out  of  all  his  troubles.  The  Civil  War  and 
the  Act  of  Emancipation  have  naturally  led  him  to 
believe  that  the  Federal  Government  had  god-like 


190  THE  NEIGHBOR 

powers,  and  that  having  lately  made  him  free  it 
would  soon  make  him  rich.  They  have  still  the 
dream  that  the  land  is  to  be  divided  amongst  them, 
each  to  have  forty  acres,  a  horse,  a  cow,  and  a  Utter 
of  pigs  duly  provided.  White  rogues  have  nourished 
this  fancy  to  their  profit ;  some  years  ago  I  heard  of 
one  who  sold  to  Negroes  in  Alabama  at  five  dollars 
each  several  carloads  of  gaily  painted  stakes  such  as 
are  used  in  the  game  of  croquet,  assuring  them  that 
they  were  to  be  used  to  mark  the  corners  of  these 
farms  dropped  from  the  sky.  So  long  as  this  delu- 
sion of  help  from  afar  inf ects  the  minds  of  the  blacks 
it  will  be  impossible  to  bring  them  to  the  plain  hard 
work  which  they  have  to  do,  or  to  reconcile  them  to 
the  business  of  keeping  on  good  terms  with  their 
white  neighbors. 

Some  of  my  readers  are  likely  to  find  in  what  I 
have  said  of  the  relations  between  the  Negroes  and 
whites  of  the  South  a  remnant  of  the  old  slave-hold- 
ing view  of  the  matter.  I  agree  with  them  in  this 
judgment.  I  have,  indeed,  ventured  on  this  writing 
for  the  reason  that  while  I  am  of  the  group  of  South- 
erners who  held  for  the  abolition  of  slavery,  I  see  the 
good  that  was  in  it  and  the  good  which  may  be  hoped 
from  the  training  it  gave  to  whites  and  blacks  alike. 
I  see,  however,  because  I  have  studied  the  Negro 
long  and  carefully,  that  he  is  not  of  a  race  that  can 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  AFRICAN       191 

yet  stand  alone,  and  doubt  if  he  can  ever  so  stand  in  a 
civilization  maintained  by  himself.  I  would  not  have 
it  supposed  that  I  dislike  or  contemn  the  Negroes, 
on  the  contrary,  I  am  very  much  attached  to  them, 
for  I  find  that  they  are  in  their  simple  human  nature 
as  likable  a  people  as  my  own.  They  have,  indeed, 
more  qualities  which  on  first  contact  arouse  the 
sympathies.  While  they  differ  in  certain  important 
ways  from  the  whites,  they  are,  as  a  whole,  very 
human ;  they  show  the  general  qualities  of  mankind 
better  than  our  own  race,  where  the  primitive  sym- 
pathetic nature  is  too  often  overladen  by  the  higher 
reason.  I  believe  that  in  the  Negro,  this  relatively 
simple  species  of  our  genus,  we  have  a  creature  which 
can  with  care  be  so  placed  in  a  modern  state  that  it 
will  not  seriously  weaken  its  structure,  and  may  add 
much  to  the  richness  of  its  life.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  the  Negroes  do  not  come  into  and  remain  in  accord 
with  the  whites  they  may  endanger  the  Republic. 
With  the  care  of  the  abler  race  they  will  make  good 
citizens ;  without  that  they  will  give  us  the  condi- 
tions of  the  Haytian  folk. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  IN  HUMAN  RELATIONS 

IT  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  process  of 
classification  is  of  a  recondite  nature  to  be  used 
only  in  learned  inquiries.  It  is,  hi  fact,  a  necessary 
part  of  all  thinking,  and  is  more  trusted  to  by  un- 
trained simple  minds  than  by  those  whose  thoughts 
are  of  a  higher  order.  This  desire  for  classification 
which  I  shall,  for  brevity,  term  the  categoric  motive, 
is  recognizable  in  the  lower  animals,  as  well  as  hi 
man.  When  a  brute,  as  for  instance  a  horse,  sees  a 
large  moving  object  which  is  unfamiliar,  he  is  at  once 
frightened,  and  this  for  the  reason  that  he  has  by 
ages  of  ancestral  experience  learned  to  form  a  group 
or  category  of  such  objects  which  it  is  profitable  to 
be  afraid  of,  for  the  reason  that  enemies  lie  in  that 
group.  If  the  thing  is  a  sheet  of  paper  blown  by  the 
wind,  or  an  automobile,  and  the  creature  is  forced 
to  encounter  it  often,  he  will  form  a  new  category, 
or  rather  a  subdivision  of  the  old,  of  moving  things 
with  the  particular  features  belonging  to  the  paper 
or  the  horseless  carriage,  of  which  the  individuals 


THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  193 

are  not  harmful.  Of  course,  all  this  process  of  cate- 
gorizing objects  performed  by  the  lower  animals, 
and  by  lower  man  as  well,  is  done  without  a  trace  of 
consciousness  of  what  they  are  about.  They  do  it 
after  the  manner  of  untrained  men,  for  the  rea- 
son that  it  is  the  only  way  hi  which  intelligence  can 
deal  with  the  practically  infinite  number  and  vari- 
ety of  things  that  come  to  its  attention.  They  have 
to  divide  these  presentations  of  the  universe  into 
groups,  those  that  may  include  enemies,  those  hi 
which  their  species  belong,  those  good  to  eat,  etc., 
etc.,  and  neglect  all  the  rest  as  hi  no  wise  concern- 
ing them.  The  groups  which  are  important  to  them 
are  evidently  subdivided,  so  that  they  hold  quite  a 
variety  of  genera  and  species  in  their  limited  minds. 
When  we  observe  the  instinctive  categoric  motive 
in  man,  we  find  that  it  works  exactly  as  in  the  ver- 
tebrates of  lowlier  estate,  with  the  difference  that  it 
is  much  more  important,  leading  to  the  construc- 
tion of  far  more  divisions  and  to  a  better  definition 
of  them.  Thus  while  a  horse  has  probably  not  more 
than  a  score  of  categories,  the  lowliest  savage  can- 
not do  his  work  with  his  fellows  or  with  the  world 
without,  it  may  be,  a  thousand  of  them.  Each  of 
these  categories  is  represented  in  his  mind  by  a 
type,  usually  a  composite  image  made  from  his 
various  seeings  of  objects  included  in  it  Naturally, 


194  THE  NEIGHBOR 

-but  not  necessarily,  there  is  a  word  or  phrase  by 
which  the  group  may  be  called  to  mind.  It  is  easy 
to  see  that  success  in  life,  in  savage  as  in  beast,  de- 
pends upon  the  sufficiency  of  these  categories.  They 
must  contain  what  needs  be  known  for  success  and 
no  more ;  they  must  be  sharp,  clear,  and  to  the  point ; 
else  some  enemy,  man  or  beast,  not  properly  in- 
cluded, may  slay  him,  or  some  improperly  classified 
plant,  unhappily  categorized  as  good  for  eating,  may 
poison  him.  In  fact,  I  fear  that  some  of  my  exces- 
sively Darwinian  friends  will,  if  they  happen  to  note 
these  statements,  proceed  at  once  to  show  that  the 
survival  of  man  has  depended  altogether  on  the  fit- 
ness of  his  categories.  I  am  myself  inclined  to  think 
that  the  ability  to  classify  effectively  has  had  a  con- 
siderable share  in  the  myriad  influences  which  have 
given  our  genus  its  marvelous  success. 

Assuming  then  the  point  that  man  does  his  think- 
ing largely  by  the  aid  of  his  categories,  let  us  note 
certain  features  which  necessarily  characterize  these 
groups.  First  let  us  remark  that  in  no  case  do  these 
mental  pictures  approach  accuracy.  Even  the  natu- 
ralist, who  with  all  his  skill  and  patience  sets  down 
his  description  of  a  species,  knows  that  he  has  done 
no  more  than  describe  certain  salient  points  of  the 
group ;  he  is  well  aware  that  a  life-time  of  observa- 
tion on  a  single  group  would  leave  the  task  incom- 


THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  195 

plete.  In  our  ordinary  categories  we  evidently  in- 
clude no  more  than  experience  teaches  us  to  do, 
which  is  to  regard  only  what  immediately  concerns 
us.  Here  and  there  a  wise  man,  and  his  is  the  su- 
preme task  of  wisdom,  sets  to  work  to  widen  the 
scope  of  his  categories,  particularly  those  which 
relate  to  mankind.  With  the  common  folk,  the  cate- 
gories into  which  they  fit  the  kinds  of  men  are  as 
gross  as  the  others,  such  as  may  be  denoted  by  good 
or  bad ;  my  sort  or  other  sort,  savage  or  civilized, 
Jew,  "nigger,"  gentleman,  and  by  scores  of  other 
words  by  which  for  our  rude  purposes  we  divide 
up  our  fellow-men. 

When  a  category  has  been  made  it  is  thereafter 
recalled  by  some  striking  feature  or  features  which 
can  be  easily  seized  on  by  eye  or  other  senses,  and 
becomes,  so  to  say,  the  label  of  the  thing,  one  that 
can  be  seen  at  a  distance  and  one  not  likely  to  be 
mistaken.  Thus  the  color  of  the  skin  is  sufficient 
to  categorize  the  Negro,  or  the  shape  of  the  nose 
the  Jew.  It  does  not  seriously  matter  that  an  Arab 
may  be  blacker  than  a  true  African ;  for  the  reason 
that  all  these  groups  have  to  be  made  in  a  rough- 
and-ready  way  there  is  no  time  or  skill  for  finished 
work.  The  main  point  being  not  so  much  to  exclude 
all  that  should  be  put  out,  but  to  include  all  that 
by  any  chance  should  go  in.  Thus,  for  instance,  it 


196  THE  NEIGHBOR 

is  better  for  a  horse  in  the  wilds  to  shy  at  many 
an  innocuous  object  than  to  have  the  category  of 
dangerous  things  insufficient  hi  its  extent.  So  with 
men  it  is  safer  hi  the  various  groups  of  enemies  to 
include  objects  that  are  not  inimical,  rather  than  to 
leave  any  dangers  out.  So  it  comes  to  pass  that 
with  the  primitive  man  all  others  than  his  own  tribe 
are  counted  as  enemies,  or,  with  ourselves,  all  who 
are  black  are  reckoned  as  of  one  kind.  The  result 
is  that  nearly  all  these  groups  which  are  the  bases 
of  our  thinking  are  taken  as  indicating  universal 
likeness  among  the  included  objects,  while  in  fact 
they  may  denote  only  some  relatively  unimportant 
feature  which  conveniently  serves  as  a  sign  of  the 
category. 

As  soon  as  a  category  is  established  in  the  ob- 
servational way  there  begin  to  accumulate  about 
it  certain  emotional  qualities;  the  states  of  mind 
aroused  by  contact  with  the  things  included  hi  the 
group  come  to  be  associated  with  the  name  of  it. 
This  is  true  of  inanimate  objects,  but  it  is  vastly 
more  true  of  the  categories  we  form  of  men.  There 
the  traditional  and  literary  impulses  serve  to  gather 
about  the  name  of  a  human  group  a  body  of  emo- 
tions which  awake  when  the  word  is  spoken  and 
which  prevent  any  change  in  its  connotation.  Thus 
it  is  that  such  terms  as  Jew,  "nigger,"  and  the  like 


THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  197 

become  barriers  to  sympathetic  advance.  They  are 
to  common  people  insuperable  obstacles  to  further 
understanding  of  the  facts,  and  even  to  persons  of 
well-trained  minds  they  are  hard  to  clear  away,  for 
they  are  founded  not  alone  on  human  nature,  but 
on  that  of  all  intelligence  of  man  and  brute.  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  all  social  advance  ulti- 
mately depends  on  the  extent  to  which  we  may  be 
able  to  break  down  these  ancient  barriers  and  re- 
construct our  primitive  classifications  hi  the  light  of 
inquiry. 

With  this  brief  account  of  the  categorizing  motive 
in  mind,  let  us  look  at  certain  of  its  applications  to 
the  matter  we  have  hi  hand.  Taking  our  common 
idea  of  any  group  of  men,  let  us  see  how  it  affects 
our  relations  to  them.  For  this  end  our  American 
Indians  will  serve  well  as  an  example.  If  we  ex- 
amine into  what  comes  to  mind  when  the  name  of 
the  people  is  spoken,  or  better  what  is  awakened 
by  the  sight  of  a  member  of  this  race,  we  shall  find 
that  the  image  is  relatively  simple  and  that  it  is 
made  up  of  traditional  views  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
creature ;  the  stories  of  forays  and  massacres  with 
perhaps  bits  of  memory  of  gentler  tales.  If  one  has 
dwelt  among  Indians  these  emotions  and  judgments 
are  qualified  by  personal  experience  which  leads  to 
some  amendment  of  the  popular  view.  In  all  cases, 


198  THE  NEIGHBOR 

however,  the  state  of  mind  is  determined  mainly 
by  tradition  and  not  by  personal  experience.  Thus 
when  you  think  you  are  dealing  with  a  particular 
red  man,  while  you  behold  him  with  your  outer 
eyes  as  an  individual,  you  inwardly  see  in  him  little 
else  than  what  the  category  sets  forth.  He  is  the 
traditional  Indian  for  all  that  his  personality  should 
tell  us.  He  is  seen  as  belonging  to  a  species  of  men 
which  is  pretty  much  the  same  from  one  end  of  the 
American  continents  to  the  other ;  they  are  all  to  be 
treated  hi  the  same  way  for  the  reason  that  they 
are  all  Indians. 

Turn  now  to  what  we  know  of  the  facts,  and  com- 
pare them  with  this  gross  category  made  as  rudely 
as  the  brutes  make  them.  We  know  that  the  native 
tribes  of  this  continent  differ  among  themselves  far 
more  than  do  the  peoples  of  Europe.  These  dif- 
ferences are  marked  in  language  by  the  existence 
of  many  score  stocks,  each  apparently  of  origins  so 
separate  that  it  is  more  than  possible  that  they 
were  separately  invented  at  different  points  by  men 
who  were  originally  without  speech.  In  customs 
the  variety  is  nearly  as  great.  In  traditions  they 
are  equally  far  apart.  In  quality  of  mind,  in  gen- 
eral ability  and  particular  powers,  they  differ  even 
more  than  do  the  Sicilians  and  Scandinavians,  and 
among  the  members  of  the  several  tribes  the  indi- 


THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  199 

vidual  quality  of  the  persons,  as  regards  all  that 
makes  for  nobility,  is  like  what  we  find  among  ac- 
quaintances of  our  own  race.  Yet  knowing  all  this, 
such  is  the  dominating  power  of  the  categorizing 
habit  that  the  Indian,  unless  I  hold  myself  up  to  my 
knowledge,  appears  to  me  as  he  does  to  the  fron- 
tiersman as  that  kind  of  man  who  is  good  when  he 
is  dead.  So  it  is  in  all  our  contacts  with  our  fellow- 
men  ;  we  have  inherited  from  the  lower  lif e,  that  of 
the  brutes  and  brutal  man,  a  habit  which  leads  to 
a  classification  of  our  kind,  embodying  hatreds  as 
animal  in  their  nature  as  those  which  exist  between 
dogs  and  foxes  —  such  categories  as  are  labelled 
**  Vile  Jew  "  and  the  like. 

In  the  history  of  the  relation  of  our  people  to  the 
American  Indians  we  see  some  of  the  more  evident 
consequences  of  this  evil  of  the  category.  In  the 
presence  of  this  vastly  diverse  body  of  the  indige- 
nous folk  there  was  need  of  action  very  diverse  in 
its  nature  and  aims,  but  inevitably  the  category  of 
redskin  was  applied  to  them  all,  and  there  was  but 
one  general  method  of  dealing  with  them  devised. 
The  contents  of  the  category  were  of  the  simplest, 
including  no  more  than  the  ideas  that  all  redskins 
were  lazy,  treacherous,  and  menacing,  therefore  to 
be  put  out  of  the  way.  So  it  has  been  in  all  man's 
dealings  with  men  of  other  races  or  tribes  or  classes. 


200  THE  NEIGHBOR 

His  classification  has  been  the  cloak  of  ignorance, 
giving  a  false  sense  of  certainty  as  to  the  basis  of 
action.  So  it  is  to-day  in  our  own  society,  and  will  be 
until  the  process  of  enlargement  of  men  leads  them 
beyond  this  limitation.  The  way  to  this  new  and  as 
yet  unwon  freedom  is  plain.  It  is  through  the  ex- 
tension of  the  sympathies  and  understandings  to  the 
point  where  we  shall  look  upon  all  men  as  individu- 
als, as  we  now  look  upon  our  lovers,  our  children, 
and  our  friends.  It  is  only  through  knowledge  led 
by  the  affections  that  the  animal  categoric  way  of 
treating  our  fellows  can  be  destroyed,  and  the  mind 
made  ready  to  behold  mankind  from  the  larger  hu- 
man point  of  view.  To  attain  this  was  an  evident  aim 
of  Christ.  To  those  who  may  endeavor  to  practice 
the  art  of  Christian  relations  with  the  fellow-man 
it  is  well  to  give  a  caution  which  I  have  noted  more 
in  detail  in  the  chapter  on  human  contacts.  This 
is,  that  in  the  presence  of  the  fellow-man  we  have 
ever  to  contend  with  the  ancient,  inherited,  categoric 
method  of  dealing  with  the  fellows  of  our  kind.  It 
is  one  of  the  hardest  of  all  moral  undertakings  to 
keep  from  being  controlled  by  this  inheritance,  so 
that  we  may  deal  with  the  fellow,  not  as  a  mere 
man  with  no  more  than  his  trifling  value  in  the 
classification,  but  as  our  brother  in  life  —  seeing  in 
him  ourselves. 


THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  201 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  tendency  to  dis- 
place the  categoric  view  of  man  by  the  sympathetic 
is  principally  moral.  It  is  equally  beyond  doubt  that 
it  is  the  most  essential  element  in  all  true  religions. 
It  is  also  clear  that  there  is  some  grave  hindrance 
which  makes  it  difficult  to  put  in  practice  views  which 
have  been  perfectly  accepted  by  the  intelligence,  and 
which  command  a  large  measure  of  support  from 
the  emotions.  Many  a  man  has  found  that  his  reso- 
lutions to  deal  with  his  neighbor  largely,  and  in  the 
manner  of  the  Samaritan,  fall  away  when  he  is  in 
face  of  the  need.  What  appears  to  him  in  his  closet 
as  a  living  change  of  heart  and  of  mind  disappears  in 
the  commonplace  situation  of  dealing  with  the  first 
ill-conditioned  fellow  he  meets,  so  he  comes  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  higher  view  is  fanciful  and  im- 
practicable. The  real  difficulty  lies  in  the  fact  that 

• 

the  categoric  motive  is  very  deeply  rooted,  and  from 
its  nature  tends  to  command  in  certain  situations  so 
strongly  that  nothing  but  a  firm  will  combined  with 
much  practice  can  change  the  habitual  conditions 
of  contact.  What  is  necessary  is  that  we  take  with 
us  in  meeting  the  neighbor  a  determination  to  look 
upon  him  considerately,  in  the  light  of  our  bettered 
understanding. 

It  is  mightily  interesting,  as  well  as  profitable  be- 
yond account,  to  enter  determinedly  on  this  practice 


202  THE  NEIGHBOR 

of  the  sympathetic  understanding  through  what,  as  in 
all  unaccustomed  arts,  has  to  be  at  first  a  deliberate 
exercise  of  the  will.  There  need  be  no  fear  that  the 
process  will  lead  to  a  self-conscious  mode  of  dealing 
with  our  fellow-men,  for  sympathy  will  cure  that 
and  lead  us  to  forget  ourselves.  Whoever  will  essay 
this  task  will  be  surprised  to  find  how  differently  the 
fellow-man  appears  hi  the  new  light ;  how  changed 
indeed  is  the  whole  world  with  the  old  scales  fallen 
from  our  eyes.  There  are  no  more  common  people, 
"dogs  of  Jews,"  or  "Indians  good  when  they  are 
dead,"  but  each  stands  before  us  in  the  dignity  of 
his  manhood  as  a  presentation  of  the  hundred  mil- 
lion years  of  life  of  this  world  summed  hi  that  mar- 
velous personality  of  man.  Whoever  sees  this  hi  his 
fellow  has  seen  into  the  promised  land ;  he  has  in 
a  true  sense  gained  religion. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  enthusiasm  of  hu- 
manity which  comes  with  the  first  consciousness  of 
what  man  is  when  the  ancient  categoric  limits  are 
swept  away,  will  endure.  It  is  the  nature  of  such 
impulses  to  be  transient,  but  there  will  remain  an 
enlargement  of  motive  in  human  intercourse  which 
is  of  great  and  permanent  value.  This  aggrandize- 
ment, however,  is  not  limited  to  the  understanding 
of  our  kind,  but  insensibly  extends  to  all  our  ways 
of  looking  at  the  world.  Having  broken  down  the 


THE  CATEGORIC  MOTIVE  203 

ancient  cramping  walls  that  limited  our  conceptions 
in  the  human  field,  all  the  other  like  prisons  of  our 
thoughts  tend  to  weaken  and  give  the  sympathies  a 
chance  to  enter. 

Looked  at  from  a  naturalist's  point  of  view  all 
these  changes  I  have  described  appear  to  me  to  be 
the  results  of  a  widening  of  those  affections  which 
are  first  shown  in  this  world  by  the  love  of  the 
mother  for  her  offspring  and  which  have  sponta- 
neously extended  to  the  brethren,  to  the  tribe,  and 
thence,  hi  widening  circles  of  influence,  to  mankind 
and  to  the  realm  of  nature.  What  understanding 
does  is  to  enforce  that  motive,  to  support  it  by 
knowledge  and  place  it  safely  on  its  way  of  develop- 
ment. In  this  work  it  is  but  the  guide  of  that  love 
which  is  past  understanding. 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  CONDITIONS  OF  THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN 

IN  the  preceding  pages  I  have  often  had  to  advert 
to  the  conditions  of  human  contact.  As  this  matter 
is  of  fundamental  importance  I  shall  now  consider  it 
in  some  detail,  though  I  shall  limit  the  consideration 
to  those  features  which  relate  to  matters  of  our  in- 
quiry. As  we  shall  see,  these  carry  us  rather  far. 

The  most  important  point  to  be  kept  in  mind  is 
that  men  are  strikingly  individual  beings,  each  sep- 
arated from  his  fellows  by  gulfs  that  are  hard  to 
bridge,  and  which,  for  all  the  efforts  to  obliterate 
them,  remain  deep  and  wide.  I  have  elsewhere  dis- 
cussed this  matter  hi  much  detail.1  We  now  need 
do  no  more  than  note  that  this  individual  quality  of 
man  is  but  the  summit  of  a  series  of  natural  actions 
by  which  the  universe  as  we  know  it  has  come  to  be 
made  up  of  separate  units,  each  with  its  own  distinct 
life  reacting  on  other  centres  of  various  grades.  In 
man  we  have  the  last  and  highest  of  the  series  of 

1  See  The  Individual,  a  study  of  life  and  death,  by  N.  S.  Shaler, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co. 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  205 

individuals  of  which  the  atom  or  the  atomule  is 
the  lowest  of  which  we  know  anything  whatever. 
In  man  we  have  a  vast  host  of  subordinated  indi- 
viduals, atoms,  molecules,  etc.,  as  well  as  semi-inde- 
pendent organic  forms  like  the  several  organs  and 
the  white  corpuscles  of  the  blood,  all  united  in  the 
bodily  activities  which  constitute  his  animal  life.  In 
his  spiritual  life  we  have  a  host  of  faculties,  activi- 
ties, and  latencies  which  only  in  some  very  small 
share  originated  with  him,  but  have  been  accumu- 
lated in  all  the  life  of  his  predecessors  hi  perhaps 
a  hundred  thousand  species,  and  individuals  innu- 
merable since  his  life  began  with  the  lowliest  organ- 
ism. All  this  vast  inheritance  along  with  his  own 
trifling  experience  is  here  for  the  moment  working 
together  and  striving  to  play  a  part  through  con- 
tacts with  the  environment,  particularly  by  means 
of  intercourse  with  the  fellow-man.  So  when  we 
exchange  greetings  with  the  neighbor,  we  and  he 
are  trying  to  bring  our  essentially  parted  natures 
into  contact  He  is  seeking  to  convey  a  sense  of  him- 
self to  us,  as  we  are  to  send  our  own  self  to  him. 
But  across  the  gulf  that  parts  us  there  is  no  bridge 
by  which  we  can  really  enter  to  one  another. 

"Wherever  we  behold  the  life  of  creatures  allied 
to  ourselves,  the  mammals  and  birds,  we  find  them 
continually  engaged  in  an  effort  to  come  to  an  un- 


206  THE  NEIGHBOR 

derstanding  with  the  neighbors  of  their  kind  by 
means  of  sympathetic  calls,  gestures,  or  fondlings  ; 
they,  too,  are  trying  to  escape  from  the  loneliness 
which  is  the  sore  burden  of  individuality.  They 
probably  succeed  far  better,  relatively,  than  man,  for 
the  reason  that  they  have  little  save  a  narrow  range 
of  emotions  to  exchange ;  the  needed  sympathy  can 
be  aroused  by  mere  sounds  or  gestures ;  the  signals 
of  kinship  can  be  sent  back  to  them  by  the  same 
simple  means.  With  man  it  is  different ;  not  only  is 
the  scope  of  his  emotional  life  really  far  greater  than 
in  the  lower  species,  but  there  is  an  indefinitely  wide 
range  of  ideas,  more  or  less  mingled  with  emotions, 
which  demand  expression  as  a  means  of  inducing 
that  sympathetic  motive  which  he  would  arouse  hi 
the  kinsman. 

To  set  forth  his  state  of  mind  to  the  neighbor, 
man  is  engaged  in  ceaseless  endeavors.  He  has  in- 
vented thousands  of  languages  and  words  innumer- 
able for  no  other  purpose  save  to  bridge  the  gulf 
between  these  fearfully  remote  neighbors.  He  con- 
trives dances  and  pageants,  creates  sculpture  and 
painting,  makes  endless  plays  and  stories,  all  in  the 
ancient  effort  to  come  near  to  his  kind. 

Supposing  that  we  have  thus  formed  a  picture, 
which  at  best  remains  most  imperfect,  of  the  strange 
isolation  and  loneliness  of  the  individual  man,  let  us 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  207 

see  what  are  the  means  at  his  command  for  gaining 
access  to  his  neighbor.  By  inheritance  from  the 
lower  life  he  has  help  from  certain  cries  and  a  few 
expressive  gestures.  As  a  man  he  has  a  face  that 
may  tell  much  more  than  the  countenances  of  the 
lower  animals,  and  yet  nothing  beyond  the  emotions 
and  only  a  few  of  these  hi  a  clear  manner.  For  the 
part  of  him  that  is  essentially  man  he  has  only  the 
device  of  language.  That  is  for  some  portions  of 
the  task  of  bridging  the  gulf  a  marvelous  instru- 
ment ;  even  with  the  lower  peoples  its  value  greatly 
exceeds  that  of  all  the  other  means  of  intercourse 
put  together;  yet  it  conveys  slowly,  and  is,  as  we 
readily  see,  most  ineffective  when  the  need  of  com- 
municating with  the  neighbor  is  greatest. 

Let  us  now  consider  what  takes  place  when  two 
men,  mere  strangers  to  one  another,  come  together. 
The  motive  of  classification,  which  I  have  considered 
hi  another  chapter,  leads  each  of  them  at  once  to 
recognize  the  approaching  object  first  as  living,  then 
as  human.  The  shape  and  dress  carry  the  categoriz- 
ing process  yet  further,  so  that  they  are  placed  hi 
groups,  as  of  this  or  that  tribe  or  social  class,  and 
as  these  determinations  are  made  they  arouse  the 
appropriate  sympathies  or  hatreds  such  as  by  ex- 
perience have  become  associated  with  the  several 
categories.  Be  it  observed  that  these  judgments  are 


208  THE  NEIGHBOR 

spontaneous,  instinctive,  and  unnoticed.  They  are 
made  so  by  immemorial  education  in  the  art  of  con- 
tact which  man  has  inherited  from  the  life  of  the 
ancestral  beasts  and  men;  they  have  most  likely 
been  in  some  measure  affirmed  by  selection,  for 
these  determinations  as  to  the  nature  of  the  neigh- 
bor were  in  the  lower  stages  of  existence  in  brute 
and  man  of  critical  importance,  the  creatures  lived 
or  died  according  as  they  determined  well  or  ill, 
swiftly  or  slowly.  If  we  observe  what  takes  place  in 
our  own  minds  at  such  meetings  we  will  see  that 
the  action  hi  its  immediateness  is  like  that  of  the 
eyelids  when  the  eye  is  threatened.  As  we  say,  it  is 
done  before  we  know  it. 

So  far,  in  our  contact  with  the  fellow-man  what 
takes  place  is  of  animal  generality,  not  essentially 
human ;  the  next  steps  are  of  the  higher  order,  for 
they  enter  on  the  field  of  actions  peculiar  to  our 
genus.  The  stranger  tries  by  speech  to  tell  us  of  his 
thought ;  if  his  language  is  our  own  and  he  is  clever 
in  using  it  we  may  get  something  from  the  words 
which  qualifies  in  a  measure  the  idea  of  him  that 
the  categorizing  process  forced  on  us  ;  but  if  we  note 
carefully  we  shall  see  that  this  amendment  is  slight. 
Our  preconceived  idea,  as  of  Jew  or  Negro,  effect- 
ively denies  him  access  to  us.  From  the  tones  of 
the  voice  or  the  expression  of  the  face  or  body  may 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  209 

come  something  to  awaken  sympathy,  but  rarely 
from  the  sense  conveyed  by  the  speech.  All  the 
ideas  we  thus  receive  are  faint  and  of  little  weight, 
compared  with  what  we  gain  by  the  more  ancient 
tests  as  to  the  category  in  which  the  man  belongs. 
Moreover,  speech  is  at  best  a  clumsy  instrument  for 
conveying  thought ;  even  in  the  written  form,  where 
everything  can  be  well  judged  and  amended  at  will, 
it  is  most  imperfect.  Thus  what  I  am  here  writing, 
fairly  well  trained  as  I  am  in  such  work,  and  with 
time  to  turn  and  weigh  the  phrase,  will  fail  to  bear 
to  the  reader  precisely  what  I  would  send  to  him. 
The  spoken  words  of  strangers,  as  we  easily  note, 
are  very  ineffective  hi  communicating  any  but  the 
simplest  ideas;  they  have  relatively  little  value  hi 
arousing  sympathy  except  so  far  as  they  do  so  by 
the  quality  of  the  voice  or  the  intonation. 

If  I  have  made  the  point  plain,  we  may  now  assume 
that  in  meeting  the  fellow-man  for  the  first  time  we 
take  with  us  habits  of  mental  action  which  gravely 
limit  the  probability  of  penetrating  to  his  quality. 
We  instinctively  put  him  into  a  category  or  group  of 
preconceived  ideas  of  what  he  should  be,  and  thus 
lodged  he  is  apt  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  our  higher 
sympathies.  We  do  this,  as  before  said,  because  the 
methods  of  contact  were  determined  in  our  lower 
life  of  beast  and  man.  The  question  now  is,  what 


210  THE  NEIGHBOR 

can  be  done  so  far  to  destroy  this  inherited  evil 
that  our  sympathies  in  the  presence  of  the  neighbor 
may  operate  as  they  do  when  we  endeavor  by  the 
stimulus  of  literature,  religion,  or  music  to  awaken 
the  sympathetic  motives  we  would  have  with  us 
when  hi  face  of  the  fellow-man.  Evidently  the  first 
thing  to  do  is  to  study  the  art  of  approaching  this 
isolation  to  which  we  would  come  near.  Men  have 
long,  in  a  dumb  way,  recognized  that  there  was  need 
of  such  a  process ;  they  have  here  and  there  devel- 
oped fragments  of  what  will  doubtless  some  day  be 
made  into  a  whole,  but  so  far  as  I  know  there  has 
been  no  effort  to  discuss  the  matter  of  meeting  the 
neighbor  from  the  point  of  view  of  philosophy  or 
of  morals.  This  lack  makes  it  difficult  in  the  brief 
space  I  can  give  to  this  problem  effectively  to  dis- 
cuss it.  What  I  have  to  say  should  therefore  be 
taken  as  mere  suggestions  based  mainly  on  my  own 
observations  and  experiments. 

In  considering  the  possible  ways  by  which  we  may 
better  our  contacts  with  our  neighbors,  it  is  well  to 
begin  by  taking  account  of  the  present  state  of  the 
process  of  intercourse,  to  see  if  in  the  existing  essen- 
tially instinctive  methods  there  is  any  chance  of 
effecting  improvements.  It  seems  to  me  that  much 
can  be  done  in  this  field  of  action.  In  the  first  place 
it  is  evident  that  the  primal  methods  of  appeal  to 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  211 

the  neighbor  for  sympathy,  those  of  gesture,  voice, 
tone,  and  facial  expression,  no  longer  serve  as  they 
primitively  did  to  bridge  the  gulf  between  men.  If 
we  watch  our  collateral  kinsmen,  the  monkeys,  we 
see  that  before  our  ancestors  came  to  man's  estate 
they  trusted  to  grimace  and  gesture  to  convey  emo- 
tions, and  by  those  means  much  was  conveyed.  It  is 
still  the  custom  of  the  lower  races  to  use  these  silent 
means  of  awakening  sympathy.  The  unconscious 
habit  of  imitating  the  antics  of  their  kindred  among 
the  mammals  and  birds  probably  exhibits  a  low  stage 
of  gesture  language,  for  in  that  way  the  creature 
puts  itself  in  the  same  state  of  mind  as  its  fellow 
and  gives  him  proof  of  it.  This  means  of  sympa- 
thetic communication  by  movements  of  the  body 
passes  from  the  lower  life  to  man,  and  in  the  more 
primitive  races  and  in  the  children  of  the  higher  is 
much  used  to  signify  and  excite  the  sympathetic  state. 
Curiously  enough,  however,  it  tends  among  all  peo- 
ples in  their  social  advance  to  undergo  certain  changes 
which  effectively  destroy  its  value  as  a  means  of  in- 
tercourse. These  changes  deserve  the  attention  which 
I  shall  now  give  them. 

The  first  step  towards  the  loss  of  gesture  language 
appears  to  arise  from  the  fact  that  it  is  made  formal, 
becoming  what  we  call  the  dance,  or  it  may  be  organ- 
ized into  a  distinct  sign  language,  such  as  was  once 


212  THE  NEIGHBOR 

in  use  among  the  American  Indians.  Either  of  these 
specializations  tends  to  take  gesture  out  of  associa- 
tion with  speech.  Thus  with  our  Indians,  though 
they  have  dances  made  by  gesture  most  symbolic, 
and  a  sign  language  far  more  perfect  than  any  other 
described,  the  ordinary  speech  is  singularly  monoto- 
nous and  without  much  help  from  grimace  or  ges- 
ture. With  the  higher  races  the  same  effect  is  pro- 
duced by  the  relegation  of  these  ancient  means  of 
expression  to  the  stage  when  the  actions  had  become 
recognized  as  appropriate.  Such  things  become  the 
properties  of  the  actor,  and  any  use  of  them  save 
on  the  stage  is  regarded  as  unfit.  Even  oratory, 
which  once  retained  its  ancient  rights  of  free  ex- 
pression, is  now  deprived  of  them;  to  say  that  a 
public  speaker  behaves  like  an  actor  is  to  condemn 
him.  The  curious  motive  of  tabu  common  with  men 
of  primitive  folk  is  perhaps  immediately  responsible 
for  this  banishment  of  a  most  important  contrivance 
for  establishing  relations  with  our  fellows. 

Something  of  the  motive  which  has  led  to  the  aban- 
donment of  gesture  is  probably  to  be  found  in  desire 
of  people  of  culture  for  exemption  from  bodily  con- 
tact with  their  neighbors,  even  when  these  are  their 
friends.  The  desire  for  this  physical  isolation  is 
such  that  no  cultivated  person  can  stand  a  slap  on 
the  back  or  a  punch  hi  the  ribs,  though  both  are  in 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  213 

the  gesticulative  language  natural  and  very  effective 
means  of  coTnTminina.f-.inn.  So,  too,  the  modesty  which 
desires  to  have  no  public  excitation  of  the  sexual 
motives  counts  for  something  hi  this  repression,  as 
does  also  the  bashfulness  which  is  in  the  same  field  of 
emotions.  It  is  likely  that  the  modern  ideal  of  the 
soldier,  that  of  a  rigid  unemotional  man,  has  had  its 
influence  in  making  all  our  movements  formal  and 
mechanical  In  fact  there  is  doubtless  a  great  tangle 
of  influences  which  have  served  to  make  the  original 
man,  who  was  evidently  a  very  gesticulative  crea- 
ture, into  the  speaking  machine  he  now  is  hi  his  best 
estate.  If  we  watch  a  group  of  Negroes  in  the  South, 
where  they  are  free  to  put  aside  their  semblance  of 
the  whites,  we  may  see  something  of  the  ancient 
spontaneous  sign  language  and  note  how  much  of 
sympathy-conveying  power  has  been  lost  by  the  civ- 
ilizing process. 

The  change  hi  the  dumb  speech  of  gesture  has  its 
parallel  in  the  formalizing  process  which  the  voice 
has  undergone.  We  no  longer  permit  its  tones  to 
tell  much  of  our  feelings.  Social  custom  requires 
that  it  shall  be  kept  as  far  as  possible  on  one  key, 
whatever  be  the  significance  of  the  words  it  utters. 
Here  again,  it  is  only  the  actor  who  has  the  ancient 
scope,  even  the  orator  is  condemned  if  he  is  dis- 
posed to  put  much  sympathetic  quality  in  his  voice ; 


214  THE  NEIGHBOR 

he  is  apt,  if  he  does  so,  to  be  regarded  as  theatrical. 
It  is  only  in  children  that  we  find  the  perfectly  nat- 
ural tones  that  fit  with  the  emotion,  but  these  pass 
quickly  as  the  imitative  impulse  leads  them  to  shape 
their  habits  of  speech  on  those  of  their  elders.  This 
change  occurs  in  all  peoples,  but  is  most  conspicuous 
in  the  more  civilized  moderns,  where  the  expression 
of  emotion  has  become  in  some  measure  shameful. 

As  regards  the  expression  of  the  countenance,  the 
rule  of  least  action  has  gone  even  further  than  in 
the  case  of  the  other  elements  of  dumb  language. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  qualities  of  the 
face  were  made  for  expression ;  there  are  several  sets 
of  muscles  which  are  so  connected  with  expressive 
facial  movements  that  we  may  fairly  regard  their 
survival,  if  not  their  existence,  to  have  been  due  to 
the  use  that  has  been  made  of  them  for  this  pur- 
pose ;  in  the  primitive  men  they  usually  have  an  ex- 
tended and  free  play.  We  see  this  mobility  still  in 
the  Negroes  when  merriment,  dejection,  and  other 
states  of  mind  give  rise  to  a  far  greater  variation 
of  expression  than  hi  the  whites, — it  appears  to  me 
to  be  several  times  as  great,  —  though  it  is  habitu- 
ally restrained,  that  it  may  conform  to  white  usage. 
In  the  present  condition  of  civilized  peoples  the 
face  is  so  far  controlled  that  it  has  lost  nearly  all  of 
its  power  to  influence  in  first  contacts  with  the 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  215 

fellow-man,  so  that  even  the  trained  observer  finds 
little  to  interpret  in  its  play.  This  is  even  more  true 
of  the  Hebrew  face  than  of  that  of  the  Aryan ;  they 
both  have  what  seems  to  be  the  inevitable  mask 
of  civilization,  but  the  Jew  masks  best.  So  far  has 
this  abandonment  of  facial  gesture  gone,  that  even 
actors  appear  to  me  to  be  abandoning  the  use  of  the 
face  as  a  means  of  influencing  their  audiences. 

The  rule  that  excludes  dumb  speech  has  gone  so 
far  that  a  man  must  no  longer  weep  save  in  pro- 
found personal  grief.  To  weep  because  another  is 
affected  would  seem  to  most  men  a  sign  of  weak- 
ness. If  he  can  do  so,  the  civilized  man  takes  the 
sorest  blow  unmoved.  As  regards  laughter,  it  is  still 
tolerated  because  it  is  the  least  controllable  of  the 
sympathetic  movements.  Yet  it,  too,  is  limited.  We 
rarely  hear  from  a  cultivated  man  a  real  laugh, 
but  only  a  mockery  of  that  most  human  movement. 
It  is  likely  that  with  a  little  further  advance  we 
shall  conquer  this,  the  last  surviving  of  the  primi- 
tive modes  of  expression,  and  be  reduced  to  mere 
words  uttered  in  such  a  manner  as  may  best  convey 
their  intellectual  meaning. 

My  reason  for  dwelling  on  the  loss  of  the  original 
means  of  communicating  with  the  fellow-being  is 
that  these  means,  mostly  originating  below  man,  are 
the  most  natural  resources  whereby  one  being  can 


216  THE  NEIGHBOR 

come  in  contact  with  another.  We  see  how  primal 
they  are  when  we  note  our  intercourse  with  dogs. 
These  creatures  watch  our  gestures,  expressions, 
and  tones  of  voice  in  the  primitive  way,  and  from 
them  obtain  marvellously  clear  notions  of  our  states 
of  mind.  We  are  accustomed  to  use  these  grimaces 
and  gesticulations  in  dealing  with  them,  so  that  one 
can  see  and  hear  the  natural  man  more  clearly  when 
he  is  dealing  with  his  dog  than  at  any  other  time. 
There  was  evidently  a  stage  hi  human  intercourse 
before  speech  began,  when  all  that  one  man  said  to 
another  was  told  as  we  tell  it  to  a  dog,  by  move- 
ments and  tones,  and  the  understanding  was  doubt- 
less quickly  sympathetic  even  though  very  unintel- 
lectual.  The  reactions  of  spirit  were  effective  be- 
cause they  were  ancient  and  deeply  founded.  Then 
came  this  device  of  articulate  speech,  with  the 
chance  it  gave  to  convey,  not  the  ancient  emotion, 
but  discreet,  accurately  stated  thought.  This  method 
of  communication  must  at  first  have  been  to  a  very 
great  extent  combined  with  the  earlier  mode  of 
expression,  for  speech  grew  slowly  to  language  in 
the  sense  hi  which  we  know  it.  But  in  tune  words 
became  so  effective  that  they  alone  might  serve. 
The  effect  of  this  change  is  that  when  we  come  to 
parley  with  the  stranger  we  have  no  means  of 
bridging  the  gulf  between  us  save  the  very  unsym- 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  217 

pathetic  device  of  phrase,  and  this  of  the  arid  con- 
ventional type.  I  bid  him  "  good  morning,"  ask  the 
time,  comment  on  the  weather,  or  what  not,  and  go 
my  way ;  so  far  as  any  sympathetic  contact  with  that 
isolation  is  concerned,  it  has  not  taken  place.  As  I 
have  to  form  some  opinion  of  him  I  do  it  by  put- 
ting him  in  one  of  the  categories  or  groups  of  men 
which  are  the  common  property  of  my  race  and 
class,  so  that  what  comes  to  me  is  little  more  than 
this  empty  form  on  which  judgments  are  shaped. 

It  is  something  if  we  recognize  these  limitations 
of  our  first  contacts  with  men,  and  make  due  cor- 
rection for  then:  utter  insufficiency.  It  is  more  if  we 
change  the  state  of  mind  in  which  these  contacts 
are  made,  and  acquire  habits  which  may  wake  us  out 
of  the  commonplace  humor  with  which  we  meet 
the  neighbor.  I  have  found  by  experience  that  this  is 
possible.  For  all  that  the  fellow  is  trying  as  hard 
as  I  am  or  harder,  to  hide  himself  in  the  citadel  of 
himself,  he  really  longs  to  escape  from  his  isolation. 
He  will  resent  any  effort  to  break  open  his  gates, 
but  after  the  manner  of  warders  he  is  not  likely  to 
object  to  a  parley  which  will  establish  something 
like  human  relations  without  the  slow  process  of 
siege.  Experiment  shows  that  the  surest  way  to  this 
is  by  a  frank,  neighborly  greeting  that  goes  at  once 
beyond  the  outworks  of  the  hold.  I  had  my  lesson 


218  THE  NEIGHBOR 

in  this  way  years  ago,  when,  on  a  railway  train,  a 
stranger,  an  intelligent  man,  entered  to  me  and 
went  straight  about  discussing  a  rather  recondite 
question  as  if  our  conversation  had  been  tempo- 
rarily interrupted.  In  a  moment  my  surprise  van- 
ished, and  we  were  as  near  together  as  though  I  had 
known  him  for  years.  The  subject  exhausted,  I  ques- 
tioned him  as  to  the  manner  of  his  greeting.  He 
said  that  he  had  deliberately  adopted  it  as  a  means 
of  getting  quickly  near  to  men,  and  that  it  worked 
well ;  now  and  then  it  made  a  man  "huffy,"  but  such 
a  fellow  was  not  worth  knowing. 

It  is  not  everybody  who  has  the  address  to  prac- 
tice the  art  of  instantaneous  f  riendliness  in  the  man- 
ner above  noted,  but  all  can  train  themselves  in 
what  is  perhaps  a  more  effective  way  of  bettering 
the  contact  with  the  neighbor.  This  is  by  insist- 
ing that  we  shall  be  interested  in  him.  In  place  of 
allowing  him  to  step  by  essentially  unnoticed,  scan 
him  so  that  you  will  know  him  again.  Be  sure  that 
in  that  little  field  of  his  countenance  there  is  a 
history  worth  reading.  See  his  shape  and  what  it 
tells ;  you  will  be  mistaken  in  many  things,  but  the 
most  you  discern  will  be  true.  Above  all,  remember 
that  here  before  you  is  the  supreme  product  of  this 
world,  the  most  marvellous  thing  we  know  in  the 
universe,  —  a  man. 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  219 

The  history  of  the  methods  of  meeting  and  greet- 
ing shows  that  there  has  been  a  steady  decline  in 
the  formal  part  of  the  performance,  but,  as  we  get 
an  idea  of  it  from  the  old  plays,  the  ami  of  the  an- 
cient formality  was  very  generally  that  of  display. 
It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  it  provided  any 
better  method  of  approach  to  the  neighbor  than  the 
abbreviated  greetings  of  to-day,  save  that  it  kept 
people  longer  under  preliminary  survey,  so  that  they 
had  a  better  chance  to  judge  one  another.  But  un- 
der the  conditions  of  human  nature  all  such  actions 
become  familiarized  and  commonplace,  and  there  is 
no  use  trying  to  give  them  spiritual  significance 
after  they  have  lost  it.  The  only  way  to  improve 
the  conditions  of  human  contacts  is  by  a  deliberate 
change  hi  the  point  of  view.  This  is  difficult,  but  so 
far  attainable  that  we  may  hope  to  do  much  in  this 
way. 

As  for  the  details  of  this  process  of  bettering  the 
conception  of  the  fellow-man  so  that  our  present 
barren  categories  hi  which  we  include  the  varieties 
of  men  we  meet  may  be  enlarged,  it  is  clear  that 
the  end  can  only  be  attained  by  extending  know- 
ledge of  the  nature  of  man.  Just  so  far  as  the 
commonplace  ideas  which  we  habitually  use  can  be 
replaced  by  something  nearer  to  what  we  now  know 
to  be  the  truth,  we  shall  provide  a  basis  for  better 


220  THE  NEIGHBOR 

relations.  Yet  these  facts  of  modern  science  which 
so  magnify  our  concepts  of  humanity  are  hi  them- 
selves mere  information.  Taken  alone  they  can  do 
no  more  to  change  the  point  of  view  than  our 
knowledge  of  the  physical  realm  serves  to  alter  our 
everyday  state  of  mind  concerning  the  weather  or 
stars.  In  his  ordinary  seeing  of  these  spheres  the 
wisest  student  of  nature  does  not  perceptibly  dif- 
fer from  the  person  who  is  uninformed  in  such 
matters :  it  is  only  when  his  sympathetic  imagination 
quickens  the  heap  of  information  that  he  sees  widely 
and  far. 

I  cannot  here  enter  on  the  large  question  as  to 
the  ways  hi  which  the  deeper  and  most  real  value 
of  modern  knowledge  can  be  won  through  its  asso- 
ciation with  the  imagination.  It  may  be  said,  how- 
ever, that  this  will  have  to  be  accomplished  by  the 
passage  of  this  pure  learning  into  the  spiritual  chan- 
nels of  religion  and  literature.  The  results  of  inquiry 
are  now,  and  hi  their  present  condition  must  re- 
main, spiritually  inert  to  the  masses  of  men,  as  they 
are,  indeed,  to  the  greater  number  of  the  inves- 
tigators who  possess  them.  It  is  not  to  be  hoped 
or  even  desired  that  this  body  of  knowledge  shall 
become  a  part  of  the  store  that  all  men  share.  It  is, 
hi  fact,  quite  beyond  possibility  that  as  information 
it  can  be  appropriated  by  any  one  man,  however 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  221 

able  and  laborious  he  may  be.  But  in  the  converted 
form  of  religious  beliefs  and  poetic  understandings, 
the  more  enlarging  of  these  truths,  especially  those 
relating  to  humanity,  may  find  their  place  hi  the 
minds  of  men.  There  appears  to  be  no  chance  that  the 
betterment  will  be  attained  by  any  formal  teaching 
of  science ;  of  that  there  is  now  more  than  enough ; 
for  science  is  evidently  displacing  those  forms  of 
education  which  helped  to  quicken  the  imaginative 
sympathies  of  men  on  which  all  truly  humane  culture 
depends. 

With  this  view  as  to  the  conditions  of  human  con- 
tact, particularly  of  what  occurs  when  men  first 
meet  one  another,  let  us  glance  at  what  takes  place 
hi  nearer  intercourse.  We  have  seen  that  at  the 
beginning  of  any  acquaintance  the  fellow-being  is  in- 
evitably dealt  with  in  the  categoric  way.  He  is  taken 
as  a  member  of  a  group,  which  group  is  denoted 
to  us  by  a  few  convenient  signs;  as  our  acquaint- 
ance with  a  particular  person  advances,  this  category 
tends  to  become  qualified.  Its  bounds  are  pushed 
this  way  and  that  until  they  break  down.  It  is  to 
be  noted  in  this  process  that  the  category  fights  for 
itself,  or  we  for  it,  so  that  the  result  of  the  battle 
between  the  immediate  truth  and  the  prejudice  is 
always  doubtful.  It  is  here  that  knowledge,  espe- 
cially that  gained  by  individual  experience,  is  most 


222  THE  NEIGHBOR 

helpful.  The  uninformed  man,  who  begins  to  find, 
on  the  nearer  view  of  an  Israelite,  that  the  fellow 
is  like  himself,  holds  by  his  category  in  the  prim- 
itive way.  The  creature  is  a  Jew,  therefore  the 
evidence  of  kinship  must  not  count.  He  who  is  bet- 
ter informed  is,  or  should  be,  accustomed  to  amend 
his  categories.  He  may,  indeed,  remember  that  he  is 
dealing  with  a  neighbor  of  the  race  which  gave  us  not 
only  Christ,  but  all  the  accepted  prophets  who  have 
shaped  our  own  course,  and  his  understanding  helps 
to  cast  down  the  barriers  of  instinctive  prejudice. 

At  the  stage  of  advancing  acquaintance  where 
friendship  is  attained,  the  category  begins  to  disap- 
pear from  our  minds.  We  may,  indeed,  measure  the 
advance  in  this  relation  by  the  extent  to  which  it 
has  been  broken  down.  Looking  attentively  at  our 
mental  situation  as  regards  those  whom  we  know 
pretty  well,  we  see  that  most  of  them  are  still, 
though  rather  faintly,  classified  into  groups.  While 
a  few  of  the  nearer  stand  forth  by  themselves,  all  of 
the  nearest  to  our  hearts  are  absolutely  individual- 
ized, so  that  our  judgments  of  them  are  made  on  the 
basis  of  our  own  motives  and  what  we  of  ourselves 
discern.  We  may  use  categoric  terms  concerning 
our  lovers,  spouses,  or  children,  but  they  have  no 
real  meaning ;  these  persons  are  to  us  purely  indi- 
vidual, all  trace  of  the  inclusive  category  has  disap- 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  223 

peared :  they  are,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  our 
neighbors,  being  so  near  that  when  we  look  upon 
them  we  see  nothing  else,  not  even  ourselves. 

It  is  the  aim  of  all  true  religions  to  bring  men 
to  abandon  the  categoric  way  of  dealing  with  the 
fellow-man,  and  to  take  in  its  stead  the  individ- 
ual method.  The  dictates  of  science  approve  of  this 
change  for  the  reason  that  the  method  of  consider- 
ing objects  by  groups,  while  appropriate,  indeed  in- 
dispensable, as  regards  all  things  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  effective  sympathies,  is  unfit  in  the  field  of 
the  affections.  I  cannot  deal  with  my  child,  my 
friend,  or  even  with  my  dog  in  the  categoric  man- 
ner, for  the  reason  that  the  sympathies  pertain  to 
individuals  and  not  to  groups.  When  they  seem  to 
relate  to  categories  we  find  on  inspection  that  such 
is  not  really  the  case.  A  man  who  thinks  that  he 
sympathizes  with  the  Indians,  the  Negroes,  or  other 
unjustly  treated  people,  is,  if  he  is  really  in  a  state 
of  sympathetic  movement,  picturing  some  individual 
sufferer  or  sufferers  to  whom  his  affections  go  forth, 
or  else  he  is  mistaking  for  sympathy  intellectual 
condemnation  of  the  wrong  done  to  the  group.  The 
task  of  science  is  the  development  of  categories 
through  the  exercise  of  the  reason ;  the  task  of  the 
sympathies  is  to  break  down  these  categories  and  to 
deal  with  objects  as  individuals.  It  would  be  inter- 


224  THE  NEIGHBOR 

esting  to  follow  this  and  other  contrasts  of  these  two 
groups  of  motives  further,  but  it  would  be  foreign 
to  my  purpose  to  do  so. 

Summing  up  these  considerations  concerning  hu- 
man contact,  it  may  be  said  that  the  world  works  by 
a  system  of  individualities  rising  in  scale  as  we  ad- 
vance from  the  inorganic  through  the  organic  series 
until  we  find  the  summit  in  man.  The  condition  of  all 
these  individuals  is  that  of  isolation ;  each  is  neces- 
sarily parted  from  all  the  others  in  the  realm,  each 
receiving  influences,  and,  in  turn,  sending  forth  its 
peculiar  tide  of  influences  to  those  of  its  own  and 
other  kinds.  This  isolation  in  the  case  of  man  is  sin- 
gularly great  for  the  reason  that  he  is  the  only  crea- 
ture we  know  in  the  realm  who  is  so  far  endowed  with 
consciousness  that  he  can  appreciate  his  position  and 
know  the  measure  of  his  solitude.  In  the  case  of  all 
individuals  the  discernible  is  only  a  small  part  of 
what  exists.  In  man  the  measure  of  this  presenta- 
tion is,  even  to  himself,  very  small,  and  that  which 
he  can  readily  make  evident  to  his  neighbor  is  an 
exceedingly  limited  part  of  the  real  whole.  Yet  it 
is  on  this  slender  basis  that  we  must  rest  our  rela- 
tions with  the  fellow-man  if  we  are  to  found  them 
upon  knowledge.  The  imperfection  of  this  method 
of  ascertaining  the  fellow-man  is  well  shown  by  the 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  225 

trifling  contents  of  the  categoric  discriminations  we 
apply  to  him.  While,  as  has  been  suggested,  much 
can  be  done  by  those  who  have  gained  in  knowledge 
of  our  kind  by  importing  understandings  into  our 
relations  with  men,  the  only  effective  way  to  the 
betterment  of  those  relations  is  through  the  sym- 
pathies. 

What  can  be  done  by  knowledge  hi  helping  us  to 
a  comprehension  of  the  fellow- man  is  at  best  merely 
explanatory  of  his  place  in  the  phenomenal  world, 
of  itself  it  has  only  scientific  value.  The  advantage 
of  the  sympathetic  way  of  approach  is  that  in  this 
method  the  neighbor  is  accounted  for  on  the  suppo- 
sition that  he  is  ourself  in  another  form,  so  we  feel 
for  and  with  him  on  the  instinctive  hypothesis  that 
he  is  essentially  ourself.  There  can  be  no  question 
that  this  method  of  looking  upon  other  individuali- 
ties is  likely  to  lead  to  many  errors.  We  see  exam- 
ples of  these  blunders  in  all  the  many  grades  of  the 
personifying  process,  from  the  savage's  worship  of  a 
tree  or  stone  to  the  civilized  man's  conception  of  a 
human-like  god.  We  see  them  also  in  the  attribu- 
tion to  the  lower  animals  of  thoughts  and  feelings 
which  are  necessarily  limited  to  our  own  kind,  but 
in  the  case  of  man  the  conception  of  identity  gives 
a  minimum  of  error  and  a  maximum  of  truth.  It, 
indeed,  gives  a  truer  result  than  could  possibly  be 


226  THE  NEIGHBOR 

attained  by  any  scientific  inquiries  that  we  could 
make,  or  could  conceive  of  being  effectively  made, 
and  this  for  the  following  reasons. 

When,  as  in  the  sympathetic  state,  we  feel  that 
the  neighbor  of  our  species  is  essentially  ourself,  the 
tacit  assumption  is  that  his  needs  and  feelings  are 
as  like  our  own  as  our  own  states  of  mind  at  diverse 
tunes  are  like  one  another;  so  that  we  might  ex- 
change motives  with  him  without  experiencing  any 
great  sense  of  strangeness.  What  we  have  in  mind 
is  not  the  measure  of  instruction  or  education,  not 
the  class  or  station  or  other  adventitious  circum- 
stances, but  the  essential  traits  of  his  being.  Now 
this  supposition  is  entirely  valid.  All  we  know  of 
mankind  justifies  the  statement  that,  as  regards 
all  the  qualities  and  motives  with  which  the  primal 
sympathies  deal,  men  are  remarkably  alike.  Their 
loves,  hates,  fears,  and  sorrows  are  alike  in  their 
essentials;  so  that  the  postulate  of  sympathy  that 
the  other  man  is  essentially  like  one's  self  is  no  idle 
fancy  but  an  established  truth.  It  not  only  embod- 
ies the  judgment  of  all  men  hi  thought  and  action 
but  has  its  warrant  from  all  the  science  we  can  ap- 
ply to  it. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  by  means  of  sympathy  we  can 
at  once  pass  the  gulf  which  separates  man  from 
man.  All  the  devices  of  the  ages  in  the  way  of 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  227 

dumb  or  spoken  language  fail  to  win  across  the  void, 
and  leave  the  two  beings  apart ;  but  with  a  step 
the  sympathetic  spirit  passes  the  gulf.  In  this 
strange  feature  we  have  the  completion  of  the  series 
of  differences  between  the  inorganic  and  the  organic 
groups  of  individualities.  In  the  lower  or  non-living 
isolations  there  is  no  reason  why  the  units  should  do 
more  than  mechanically  interact.  All  their  service 
in  the  realm  can  be  best  effected  by  their  remaining 
forever  completely  apart.  But  when  we  come  to  the 
organic  series  the  units  begin  to  have  need  of  under- 
standing their  neighbors,  in  order  that  they  may 
form  those  beginnings  of  the  moral  order  which 
we  find  developing  among  the  members  even  of 
the  lowliest  species.  Out  of  this  sympathetic  accord 
arises  the  community,  which  we  see  hi  its  simple  be- 
ginnings in  the  earlier  stages  of  life ;  it  grows  with 
the  advance  in  the  scale  of  being,  and  has  its  su- 
preme success  in  man.  Human  society,  the  largest 
of  all  organic  associations,  requires  that  its  units  be 
knit  together  in  certain  common  purposes  and  un- 
derstandings, and  the  union  can  only  be  made  effec- 
tive by  the  ways  of  sympathy,  —  by  the  instinctive 
conviction  of  essential  kinship. 

Thus,  while  the  work  of  building  a  commonwealth 
can  be  greatly  helped  by  knowledge,  it  cannot  be  be- 
gun or  continued  except  by  that  sympathetic  under- 


228  THE  NEIGHBOR 

standing  which  alone  knits  men  together.  Knowledge 
may  and  should  help  by  showing  that  the  social  sense 
of  kinship  is  necessary  to  this  establishment,  but  it 
cannot  quicken  the  motive ;  that  is  done  by  the  com- 
mon spirit  of  the  race  which  is  included  in  its  lan- 
guage, its  traditions,  and  its  religion.  In  so  far  as 
they  do  their  appointed  task  they  convey  to  each 
soul  the  tide  of  life ;  of  the  higher  life  of  the  race, 
which  has  its  springs  in  the  devotion  and  self-sacri- 
fice of  all  its  noble  people.  It  is  on  this  we  have  mainly 
to  depend  for  the  betterment  of  the  contacts  of  men. 
What  we  may  term  the  contact  rate  of  differ- 
ent tribes  and  races  of  men  varies  considerably,  and 
with  certain  peoples  has  changed  much  hi  recent 
centuries.  In  the  British  Isles  we  find  the  York- 
shireman  of  the  lower  classes  sullen,  and  disposed 
to  an  ugly  state  of  mind  towards  all  strangers. 
This  humor  betters  among  the  more  southern  Eng- 
lish, so  that  the  preliminary  greetings  show  a  confi- 
dence hi  the  unknown  neighbor.  The  Irishman  has 
a  very  quick  sense  of  the  fellow-man,  while  his  race 
kinsman,  the  Highlander  of  Scotland,  is  more  stub- 
born in  his  instinctive  doubts.  In  general,  a  large 
admixture  of  Scandinavian  blood,  as  in  Western  Eng- 
land and  Southern  Scotland,  appears  to  make  contacts 
more  difficult.  On  the  continent  of  Europe  the  more 
southern  peoples  evidently  have  a  quicker  sense  of 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  229 

the  fellow-man  than  the  northern.  It  takes  about 
half  the  tune  to  gain  a  preliminary  understanding 
with  a  Frenchman  or  an  Italian  that  it  does  with  an 
Englishman.  In  Germany  the  peoples  of  the  south 
are  far  more  approachable  than  those  of  the  north. 

The  differences  hi  the  manner  of  contact  among 
various  peoples  appear  to  have  little  value  as  in- 
dices of  their  attitude  towards  the  neighbor.  These 
variations  are,  probably  to  a  considerable  extent,  de- 
pendent on  the  curious  medley  of  motives  that  we 
include  under  the  term  fashion.  Thus  the  rigid- 
ity of  the  Prussian  seems  to  be  the  result  of  the 
military  motive  and  manner  of  the  upper  classes 
which  has  been  imitated  by  the  lower  ranks  of  the 
people;  while  the  half-surly  way  of  the  German 
Swiss  may  be  the  product  of  the  reaction  against 
aristocratic  conditions.  Yet  there  doubtless  is  in 
these  variations  of  behavior  towards  the  neighbor 
something  of  the  habitual  attitude  of  the  man  to- 
wards himself.  The  independent  self-centred  state 
of  mind  of  the  Scandinavian,  where  the  fellow  has  a 
certain  pride  hi  his  isolated  self-sufficiency,  causes 
him  to  answer  a  neighbor's  hail  gruffly;  while  the 
Frenchman,  who  evidently  feels  the  need  of  his  kind 
more  keenly,  speaks  him  fairly.  The  Jews,  for  all 
their  bitter  experiences  hi  contact  with  other  than 
their  own  people,  have  retained  what  appears  to  be 


230  THE  NEIGHBOR 

an  ancient  racial  or  tribal  capacity  for  quick  respon- 
sive contact  with  their  fellow-men.  I  have,  in  a  pre- 
vious chapter,  noted  this  feature  in  some  detail.  So 
far  however,  from  the  kindliness  of  the  first  greet- 
ing indicating  the  measure  of  the  sympathetic  mo- 
tive, among  Europeans  at  least,  the  deeper  sense  of 
the  fellowship  of  man  appears  to  be  the  greater  the 
less  its  first  manifestations.  It  is  evident  from  his- 
tory that  the  Germanic  stocks  are  less  innately  cruel 
than  the  Latin  races,  or  perhaps  they  have  more 
effectively  subjected  the  ancient  cruelty  motive. 

The  lessening  of  the  motives  which  led  to  cruelty 
in  recent  centuries  among  the  Germanic  peoples  is 
one  of  the  most  curious  features  in  the  moral  history 
of  mankind.  It  is  evident  that  in  England  the  butch- 
erly humor  of  antiquity  continued  in  the  hearts  of 
the  folk  down  to  the  thirteenth  century,  as  is  shown 
by  the  massacres  of  the  Jews  hi  London,  Norwich, 
York,  and  other  towns ;  but  from  that  time  forth 
the  sympathies  have  been  more  masterful,  and  in 
the  course  of  five  hundred  years  have  made  such 
actions  impossible.  In  Germany  the  progress,  al- 
though slower,  has  been  steadily  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, so  that  hi  both  these  kindred  peoples  the  moral 
status  in  this  regard  is  at  present  about  the  same. 
Among  the  Germanic  races  in  America  the  advance 
in  the  humanizing  process  has  been  even  more  rapid 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  231 

than  in  the  related  stocks  of  the  Old  "World.  This, 
as  it  seems  to  me,  began  to  be  shown  in  the  conduct 
of  the  native  troops  in  the  Revolutionary  War ;  and 
it  was  admirably  manifested  in  the  Civil  War,  when 
with  very  rare  and  limited  exceptions,  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  cruel  motive. 

Among  the  Latin  races,  or  at  least  among  the 
French  and  Spaniards,  the  primitive  blood-thirsty 
motive  which  was  universal  in  Europe  until  the  end 
of  the  Middle  Ages  has,  for  some  inexplicable  reason, 
been  retained  to,  or  near  to,  the  present  time.  The 
Frenchman,  in  his  quiet  state  a  very  gentle  fellow, 
becomes,  when  imbued  with  the  war  motive,  in  large 
measure  de-humanized;  the  impulse  to  massacre 
holds  in  him  much  as  it  did  in  the  Middle  Ages,  as 
was  shown  in  the  outbreaks  of  the  Commune,  only 
a  third  of  a  century  ago.  A  part  of  this  curious 
phenomenon  is  that  the  horror  and  shame  of  it  ap- 
pear to  make  no  significant  impression  on  the  minds 
of  the  better  people.  They  deprecate  cruelty,  but,  so 
far  as  I  see  in  their  histories,  regard  the  exhibitions 
of  it  in  periods  of  excitement  as  something  entirely 
normal.  In  fact  we  have  here,  as  elsewhere  in  the 
French  nature,  most  curious  instances  of  retarded 
development  hi  a  people  who  are  in  certain  other 
ways  exceptionally  advanced.  Among  the  Spanish 
the  primitive  cruelty  of  man  is  retained,  much  as 


232  THE  NEIGHBOR 

among  the  French,  although  it  does  not  manifest 
itself  in  wild  mob  furies,  but  in  a  more  systematic 
way,  as  in  the  treatment  of  prisoners,  or  of  non- 
combatants  in  civil  war.  In  Italy  the  advance  in 
the  humanizing  process  appears  to  have  been  almost 
as  effective  as  among  the  Germanic  folk,  the  butch- 
erly humor  having  steadfastly  diminished  since  the 
time  of  the  Renaissance. 

These  over-brief  statements  of  an  important  gen- 
eral truth  serve  to  indicate  that  the  cruelty  we  note 
hi  the  French  and  Spaniards  is  not  peculiarly  de- 
veloped in  them,  but  that  it  is  a  survival  from  a  time 
when  the  sympathy  with  the  fellow-man  was  much 
less  keen  than  it  is  among  the  more  advanced  Ger- 
manic stocks  at  the  present  tune.  As  for  the  reasons 
for  either  the  advance  or  retardation  in  this  regard 
we  have  nothing  that  is  certain  in  the  way  of  explana- 
tion. 

The  blood-thirstiness  of  primitive  men  and  the 
general  development  of  cannibalism  among  them 
shows  plainly  that  man  came  early  by  his  more  bru- 
tal qualities.  How  he  came  by  them  is  a  perplexing 
question,  for,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  none  of  his  collat- 
erals have  a  trace  of  the  motive.  The  gorilla  is 
doubtless  a  fierce  brute  when  at  bay,  but  there  is  no 
evidence  of  the  desire  to  harm  for  the  gratification 
of  other  than  momentary  rage,  and  the  like  is  true 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  233 

of  all  the  Quadrumana.  In  fact,  save  in  a  few  car- 
nivorous animals,  such  as  the  dog  and  wolf,  none  of 
the  mammals  show  a  blood-thirsty  disposition.  The 
dog  and  wolf  will  slay  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  the 
activity.  As  man  comes  from  a  group  mainly  feed- 
ing on  fruits,  nuts,  and  insects,  and  is  for  his  size 
singularly  unfit  for  combat,  he  should  not,  and  prob- 
ably did  not,  inherit  from  his  prehuman  ancestors 
any  love  of  killing  his  neighbors ;  he  must  have  de- 
veloped that  motive  hi  his  human  estate. 

That  man  on  entering  the  human  stage  promptly 
developed  a  disposition  to  assail  his  neighbors  who 
differed  from  his  own  tribe,  is  made  plain  by  the  fact 
that  all  the  varieties  of  men  on  all  the  continents 
are  lethal.  Though  the  measure  of  their  hunger  for 
the  life  of  those  whom  they  regard  as  enemies  may 
differ,  it  is  always  great.  In  fact,  this  desire  to  slay 
for  the  sake  of  slaying  is,  as  above  noted,  almost  a 
peculiarity  of  man  ;  and  the  impulse  to  torment  the 
enemy  is  the  most  original  and  unique  of  all  the 
characteristics  of  the  genus.  All  the  other  qualities 
of  his  mind  have  some  likeness  in  the  lower  life, 
but  this  is  his  alone.  We  wrong  the  beasts  when 
we  speak  of  the  slaughter  during  outbreaks  such  as 
the  u  Terror  "  as  brutal ;  that  is  supremely  human. 

That  this  tendency  to  cruelty  is  a  deep  founded 
element  in  human  nature  may  be  most  easily  proved 


234  THE  NEIGHBOR 

by  asking  the  reader  to  examine  himself.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  he  will  find  evidence  of  it  hi  the  deep  lying 
animal-nature  desires  of  his  own  heart.  He  will 
find  there  subjugated,  yet  alive,  the  motives  that 
lead  to  slaying  for  hatred's  sake,  and  tormenting  for 
the  sake  of  torment.  We  see  it  in  children  of  the 
gentlest  breeding,  however  well-guarded  by  higher 
training ;  it  is  the  motive  hi  war.  So  far  as  I  know 
there  has  been  no  extended  study  of  the  conditions 
which  lead  to  the  cruel  motive  of  man.  It  has  been 
accepted  as  a  part  of  the  human  store  and  with- 
out much  comment.  The  fact  that  it  is  essentially 
human  seems  to  have  escaped  observation.  I  shall 
therefore  set  forth  what  seems  to  be  a  possible  ex- 
planation of  the  matter. 

Although  I  am  less  inclined  than  the  most  of 
my  brother  naturalists  to  adduce  the  theory  of  nat- 
ural selection  hi  order  to  account  for  the  existence 
of  complicated  organic  conditions,  especially  for  the 
peculiarities  of  man,  I  am  disposed  to  believe  that 
it  may  in  a  measure  explain  the  widespread  devel- 
opment of  the  assailing  motive  hi  mankind  for  the 
following  reasons.  It  is  evident  that  primitive  men 
were  divided  into  small  tribes,  as  are  their  nearer 
collateral  kinsmen,  the  anthropoid  monkeys.  That 
tribal  motive  is  common  among  all  the  Quadru- 
mana;  it  is,  indeed,  almost  mammalian  in  its  gen- 


THE  CONTACTS  OF  MEN  235 

erality.  It  is  also  evident  that  there  is  a  certain 
natural  hostility  among  the  herds,  droves,  or  other 
tribal  divisions  of  the  brutes;  this  rarely  leads  to 
death,  but  merely  to  serious  bodily  injury,  for  gener- 
ally they  are  not  provided  with  the  means  of  slay- 
ing. When,  however,  the  stage  of  man  was  attained, 
the  wits  of  the  creature  quickly  made  him  master  of 
the  lethal  arts.  The  primitive  spear,  even  when  it 
was  no  more  than  a  pointed  stick,  was  a  more  effec- 
tive instrument  of  assault  when  guided  by  human 
intelligence  than  any  natural  weapons  such  as  teeth 
and  claws  afford.  With  each  advance  hi  arms  and  in 
the  motives  that  gave  them  efficiency  the  primitive 
tribes  which  made  those  gains  attained  dominance 
over  their  less  inventive  and  less  militant  neighbors. 
This  condition  has  evidently  persisted  from  a  very 
early  stage  in  human  development  to  the  present 
day,  with  the  result  that  the  originally  rather  in- 
offensive creature  has  become  through  selection  a 
singularly  brutal  annual. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY  AND  SPECIES 
IN  ORGANIC  LIFE 

To  understand  the  true  nature  of  those  variations 
among  men  which  are  found  in  the  physical  and 
mental  differences  exhibited  by  the  tribes,  races,  and 
species  of  our  genus,  it  is  necessary  to  take  a  some- 
what wider  view  of  the  process  of  diversification  of 
peoples  than  we  have  as  yet  essayed.  We  need  not 
only  to  note  that  in  this  process  of  variation  man- 
kind is  proceeding  on  a  way  which  all  organic  life 
necessarily  pursues,  but  also  to  see,  in  part  at  least, 
the  nature  of  the  process  and  its  moral  significance 
in  our  own  exceptional  genus. 

Organic  individuals,  as  before  noted,  differ  from 
the  inorganic  hi  that  they  are  able  to  gain  by  ex- 
perience and  to  transmit  their  acquisitions  in  a 
cumulative  way  to  their  successors,  while  inorganic 
individuals,  even  if  they  have  the  vast  complexity  of 
structure  and  function  of  the  celestial  spheres,  have 
not  that  capacity  of  acquiring  and  transmitting  profit 
won  from  their  surroundings.  This  is,  indeed,  the 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       237 

essential  difference  between  the  living  and  the  dead: 
they  both  have  the  uniform  changeless  life  of  the 
lower  realm,  but  to  the  living  shape  is  added  the 
capacity  for  endless  education,  for  ceaseless  change 
in  reference  to  environment.  Just  how  this  profit 
of  experience  is  handed  on  through  a  series  of  or- 
ganic individuals  is  still  a  matter  in  debate.  The 
Darwinian  school  has  fairly  proved  that  it  is  in  some 
measure  transmitted  accumulatively  from  generation 
to  generation  by  selective  processes,  but  only  the 
rasher  followers  of  the  great  pathfinder  hold  that 
this  is  the  sole  way  by  which  the  advance  is  attained. 
The  master  held  to  no  such  narrow  view.  It  is  prob- 
able that  in  this  as  in  most  other  organic  actions, 
we  might  say  inorganic  as  well,  the  result  is  brought 
about  through  the  combination  of  a  vast  complex  of 
influences  of  which  the  survival  of  the  fittest  is  but 
one,  —  certainly  the  most  recognizable,  in  many  fields 
of  life  the  most  dominant,  —  yet  but  one  among 
many. 

It  is  impossible  in  this  writing  to  review  the  vari- 
ous hypotheses  concerning  the  conditions  of  organic 
development.  For  my  purpose  it  may  be  admitted 
that  in  the  realms  of  life  below  the  level  where 
intelligence  begins  to  play  its  part,  the  process  of 
natural  selection  or  the  survival  of  the  fittest  is 
the  dominant  influence  in  determining  the  course  of 


238  THE  NEIGHBOR 

advance,  or,  it  may  be,  the  retrogression  of  a  series 
of  organisms;  it  being  understood  that  the  primal 
capacities  of  the  original  form  set  certain  limits  and 
give  a  certain  measure  of  direction  to  the  changes 
which  are  induced.  It  is  when  the  intelligence  at- 
tains a  stage  where  the  individuals  of  a  group  have 
to  act  together  in  order  to  live  that  we  begin  to 
find  serious  trouble  in  accounting  for  their  develop- 
ment by  any  such  mechanical  actions  as  selection 
implies.  This  feature  of  a  common  mind  or  intent 
hi  a  group  of  animals  has  a  wide  range  of  manifesta- 
tion. It  may  be  relatively  simple,  as  in  the  quickly 
developed  sympathetic  fear  that  moves  a  herd  to 
flight ;  but  even  in  such  lowly  forms  as  the  insects 
it  attains  a  high  order  of  complexity.  The  facts  of 
associative  action  are  indeed  more  clearly  indicated 
by  structure  and  habits  hi  that  group  than  in  any 
other  organic  series. 

In  order  to  set  forth  some  of  the  features  of 
the  common  mind  which  may  be  developed  in  an 
intellectual  community,  I  shall  note  something  of 
the  exhibition  of  it  found  in  any  group  of  social  in- 
sects. For  this  purpose  I  select,  almost  at  random, 
a  species  of  moth  which  lays  its  eggs  on  the  wild 
cherry  and  a  few  other  kindred  Rosaceous  plants, 
in  order  that  its  offspring  in  the  grub  state  may 
feed  on  the  young  leaves  until  ready  to  enter  on 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       239 

the  chrysalis  state.  In  this  species  (Clisiocampa 
americana^  Harris)  the  female  lays  its  eggs  in  the 
warm  season,  selecting  the  appropriate  tree  in  un- 
erring manner.  These  eggs  are  placed  near  the  top 
of  the  branches,  and  the  nests,  formed  either  by  the 
same  female  or  by  a  number  of  females,  are  distrib- 
uted over  the  branches,  so  that  the  colonies  hatched 
from  them  have  an  even  chance  of  procuring  food. 
Rarely,  if  ever,  are  the  nests  so  numerous  that  there 
is  not  food  enough  to  supply  all  the  colonies  which 
they  found.  In  some  years  of  rather  close  observa- 
tion of  this  species,  —  during  which  tune  I  have  ex- 
amined perhaps  five  hundred  trees  in  determining 
the  point,  —  I  have  not  found  a  clear  instance  in 
which  the  young  on  any  tree  have  failed  to  find 
adequate  sustenance  from  its  leaves  and  been  forced 
to  wander  in  search  of  food.  It  seems  fairly  certain 
that  the  females  exercise  a  certain  restraint  in  order 
to  avoid  crowding  their  offspring  beyond  the  point 
where  they  may  have  a  chance  to  attain  their  full 
development. 

When  the  young  caterpillars  of  a  nest  are  hatched 
and  begin  to  feed,  they  quickly  associate  in  build- 
ing a  nest  of  spun  webs,  each  grub  taking  some  part 
in  the  work.  At  first  this  nest  is  no  more  than  a 
tangle  of  threads  put  together  without  apparent 
order ;  yet  the  place  in  which  it  is  installed  is  com- 


240  THE  NEIGHBOR 

monly  well  chosen,  not  only  for  the  immediate  needs 
of  the  hundred  or  so  tiny  creatures,  but  also  to 
admit  of  the  enlargement  and  change  in  the  design 
of  the  structure  to  accommodate  the  larvae  which, 
before  they  are  mature,  are  to  be  at  least  fifty  times 
the  size  they  had  attained  when  the  nest  was  begun. 
At  least  ninety-five  per  cent  of  these  constructions 
are  placed  at  a  point  where  twigs  about  a  fourth  of 
an  inch  hi  diameter  and  to  the  number  of  three  or 
more  branch  hi  several  axes ;  the  result  is  that  hi 
the  final  state  the  housing  has  an  even  three-dimen- 
sional space,  sufficient  to  accommodate  all  members 
of  the  temporary  society. 

Beginning  when  they  are  still  not  more  than  a 
fifth  of  an  inch  hi  length  with  such  a  slight  struc- 
ture as  their  web-producing  capacity  enables  them 
to  spin,  the  larvae  when  they  have  grown  to  about 
twice  that  size  proceed  to  alter  the  plan  of  the 
edifice.  Apparently  they  feel  that  they  are  unduly 
crowded  as  they  cling  hi  the  night  or  in  bad  weather 
to  the  scattered  threads  of  their  webs,  and  so  are  in- 
duced to  change  the  form  of  the  shelter.  This  they 
do  by  building  a  sheet  of  the  material  so  tied  to  the 
branches  that  it  is  as  taut  as  a  drum,  with  each 
surface  near  to  a  plane,  and  so  dense  and  with  such 
an  inclination  that  it  will  shed  the  rain.  One  or 
more  conveniently  placed  openings  of  suitable  width 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       241 

afford  access  to  this  enclosed  space,  while  a  series 
of  floors  give  the  creatures  a  chance  to  lie  at  ease 
within  the  cover.  As  the  larvae  still  further  in- 
crease in  bulk,  other  envelopes  are  built  from  tune 
to  time  outside  of  the  original  sheeting,  so  that  if 
the  colony  is  successful  there  may  be  four  or  more 
of  these,  each  separated  from  the  other  by  a  space 
that  just  admits  of  the  storage  of  the  creatures  and 
of  their  ready  passage  to  the  branches  where  they 
feed.  It  is  to  be  noted  also  that  from  the  nest  to 
the  feeding  places  there  is  commonly  a  web-covered 
path  composed  of  a  few  strands  of  the  fibre,  which 
serves  to  guide  the  larvae  on  their  journeys  to  and 
fro,  as  well  as  to  smooth  the  way.  This  web  appears 
to  be  spun  by  the  first  that  traverse  the  path. 
In  those  seldom  cases  in  which  the  nest  of  this 
moth  is  so  ill  placed  that  it  cannot  be  extended,  it  is 
usually  abandoned  by  the  young  grubs  and  another 
site  chosen  that  better  fits  their  needs.  It  is  prob- 
able that  the  emigrants  may  in  some  instances  find 
refuge  with  another  colony  where  there  chances  to 
be  room.  That  such  is  the  case  is  shown  by  the 
occasional  presence  of  nearly  mature  individuals  hi 
a  nest  together  with  a  set  of  larvae  so  small  that 
they  could  not  have  come  from  the  same  group  of 
eggs.  In  these  migrations  all  the  members  of  a 
colony  are  apparently  not  guided  by  a  like  impulse, 


242  THE  NEIGHBOR 

as  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  now  and  then  a  nest 
will  be  found  which  contains  only  two  or  three  ma- 
ture larvae,  while  the  shed  skins  show  that  it  origi- 
nally held  a  hundred  or  more  now  being  lodged  with 
other  near-by  groups  to  which  they  have  betaken 
themselves. 

Those  who  know  something  of  the  history  of  the 
lepidopterous  insects  will  recognize  the  fact  that 
such  phenomena  of  associative  action  between  indi- 
viduals are  repeated,  as  described  above,  with  many 
variations  in  a  host  of  species  of  the  order.  Spon- 
taneously, with  no  chance  of  obtaining  any  instruc- 
tion from  the  elders  of  their  kind,  these  creatures 
so  react  on  one  another  that  a  common  mental, 
or,  as  we  may  term  it,  colonial,  purpose  is  attained 
which  results  in  very  complicated  joint  products  in 
the  highest  measure  purposeful.  This  common  mind 
is  hi  certain  respects  as  well  ordered  as  that  of  an 
individual,  for  those  associatively  built  webs 'are  as 
artfully  contrived,  and  as  well  adapted  to  the  needs 
of  the  creatures,  as  is  the  one  built  by  a  single  spider 
working  quite  alone.  The  same  feature  of  association 
is  shown  in  other  orders  of  insects ;  in  the  Hymen- 
optera,  among  the  bees,  and  in  the  order  to  which 
the  Termites  belong.  I  shall  do  no  more  than  note 
the  fact  that  these  several  widely  separated  groups 
show  how  the  intellectual  community  is  formed 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       243 

wherever  among  the  insects  the  needs  of  association 
lead  thereto.  It  is  evident  that  hi  the  intelligence  of 
the  articulated  animals  there  is  a  latent  capacity  for 
combining  the  work  of  a  host  of  individuals,  so  that 
from  the  association  is  developed  something  of  the 
nature  of  public  opinion, —  we  lack  a  better  term  for 
it,  —  which  enables  and  requires  all  the  cob'perators 
to  act  in  unison. 

It  is  the  usual  practice  to  dismiss  the  intellectual 
work  of  insects  with  the  question-begging  term  u  in- 
stinct ; "  to  assume  that  they  act  in  some  automatic 
manner  that  does  not  involve  intelligence.  I  cannot 
agree  with  this  for  many  reasons,  of  which  one  must 
here  suffice.  Granting  that  the  mode  of  operation 
of  instinct  differs  from  that  of  a  conscious  mind,  it 
still  has  to  be  assumed  that  such  deeds  as  I  have 
described  are  in  their  essence  mental,  for  they  take 
account  of  conditions  beyond  the  body  and  adjust 
the  doing  to  varied  necessities.  It  is  not  only  to  be 
granted  that  the  quality  of  this  mind  is  specifically 
and  generically  different  from  our  own,  but  it  has  to 
be  admitted  that  it  is  of  another  type  from  that  which 
we  possess.  What  we  know  of  instinctive  actions 
hi  our  own  selves  goes  to  prove  that  psychologists 
have  erred  in  supposing  that  mind  is  of  one  general 
nature.  The  facts  taken  at  large  hi  the  organic 
realm  clearly  indicate  that  if  we  could  visualize  the 


244  THE  NEIGHBOR 

diverse  kinds  of  intelligence  we  should  perceive  them 
to  be  quite  as  varied  as  the  bodies  in  which  they  are 
lodged.  The  assumption,  generally  tacit,  that  mind 
is  of  one  relatively  invariable  quality  arises  from 
the  fact  that  our  means  of  observing  its  character 
are  exceedingly  limited ;  the  advantage  we  have  hi 
watching  it  in  bisects  is  that  because  of  their  small 
size,  their  high  degree  of  activity,  and  the  capacity 
for  mechanical  constructions  afforded  by  their  pecul- 
iar frames,  we  have  a  better  chance  than  elsewhere 
hi  the  lower  animals  to  measure  and  to  determine 
the  character  of  certain  of  their  mental  qualities. 
There  is  reason  for  believing  that  the  same  capacity 
which  we  find  in  the  insects  for  developing  inter- 
active instincts,  that  is  to  say,  spontaneous,  uncon- 
scious modes  of  intellectual  action  between  indi- 
viduals of  the  same  species,  exists  in  the  vertebrate 
type  up  to  and  including  man. 

The  best  evidence  that  the  higher  vertebrates  near 
the  series  leading  to  man  have  capacity  for  instinc- 
tive cooperation  —  such  as  leads  to  the  develop- 
ment of  a  common  mind  guiding  a  social  order  — 
is  found  in  the  rodents.  The  social  organization  of 
communities  hi  this  group  often  attains  the  same 
kind  of  perfection,  though  their  work  does  not  show 
the  eminent  shapeliness  that  we  find  hi  the  webs, 
honeycombs,  and  hilla  of  the  insects.  In  the  beaver 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       246 

lodge  the  individuals  are  associated  in  an  accord 
that  makes  their  work  even  more  effective  than  that 
of  primitive  men.  By  a  consensus  of  the  laborers, 
evidently  without  leadership  or  instruction,  they  do 
complicated  work  which  is  adjusted  to  very  variable 
conditions  and  effected  in  a  varied  manner.  Thus, 
though  very  rarely,  they  will,  at  times  and  places 
when  it  is  necessary  for  their  purpose,  dig  canals  on 
which  to  float  their  timber  if  it  is  too  far  to  drag 
it  over-land.  Again  they  will  abandon  the  habit  of 
dam-building  and  for  generations  betake  themselves 
for  lodgment  to  holes  in  the  river  banks,  and  resume 
their  old  habit  of  construction  when  the  circum- 
stances favor  such  action.  Thus  the  beavers  of  east- 
ern Virginia  gave  up  long  ago  the  habit  of  building 
dams, because  of  the  hunter;  but  in  the  Civil  War, 
when  their  persecutors  were  otherwise  engaged,  they 
returned  to  that  ancestral  plan  of  life  and  once  again 
built  dams. 

The  various  genera  and  species  of  small  rodents 
commonly  known  as  field  mice  have  constructive 
habits  almost  as  remarkable  as  those  of  the  beaver, 
—  habits  which  exhibit  the  same  insect-like  instinct 
combined  with  a  share  of  vertebrate  intelligence. 
More  than  in  the  insects,  the  communal  rodents 
adapt  their  instinctive  actions  to  varying  conditions ; 
yet  the  difference  is  one  of  degree,  for  even  the  larvas 


246  THE  NEIGHBOR 

of  the  moths,  as  elsewhere  described,  vary  their  ac- 
tions not  a  little  to  meet  the  needs  that  arise  in  the 
course  of  their  lives.  It  should  be  noted  that  while 
these  insects  are  in  the  grub  state,  there  is  certainly 
no  clear  vision ;  at  most,  they  discern  only  the  dif- 
ferences hi  light.  They  can  take  no  account  of  their 
webs  by  sight,  their  information  must  come  by  touch 
alone ;  and  yet  they  manage  to  bring  about  results 
which  are  quite  like  those  attained  by  the  Mammalia 
with  image-making  eyes,  each  individual  associating 
its  action  with  that  of  its  fellows  of  the  community 
in  a  very  perfect  way. 

Although  there  is  no  basis  for  accurate  computa- 
tion it  may  safely  be  estimated  that  there  are  now 
in  existence  somewhere  near  a  hundred  thousand 
species  of  animals,  mostly  insects,  all  of  which,  sub- 
stantially without  means  of  denoting  their  own  in- 
tentions or  appreciating  those  of  another  of  their 
kind,  are  able  to  associate  their  action  in  such  a  way 
that  the  community  has  a  common  mind.  Wherever 
a  communal  need  arises  we  see  that  this  mental  com- 
munism at  once  appears.  In  a  word,  the  facts  indi- 
cate that  it  is  characteristic  of  a  species,  at  least 
in  the  animal  kingdom,  that  its  members  are  capa- 
ble of  developing  a  peculiar  mental  understanding, 
a  consensus  of  thought  and  action,  which  is  not  pos- 
sible among  members  of  diverse  species.  That  we 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       247 

do  not  perceive  the  existence  of  this  quality  in  the 
greater  number  of  genera  and  classes  is  due  to  the 
fact  that  their  habits  do  not  call  for  its  development. 
It  is  unnoticeable  in  the  greater  number  of  insect 
groups ;  yet  here  and  there,  among  very  diverse  or- 
ders, coming  into  view  suddenly  wherever  the  habits 
are  such  as  to  call  for  its  exercise,  the  ability  to 
work  together  appears,  giving  us  the  perfection  of 
the  ant-hill,  the  honeycomb,  the  webs  of  the  social 
larvsB,  or  the  constructions  of  the  beavers. 

From  the  facts  above  noted  we  may  fairly  deduce 
the  conclusion  that  in  the  species  of  men  we  are 
likely  to  find  something  of  the  special  mental  qual- 
ity, the  peculiar  specific  motive  of  the  mind  leading 
to  associative  action  found  in  the  lower  life.  In  other 
words,  it  is  to  be  expected  that  the  mental  differ- 
ences in  the  several  species  of  our  genus  will  be  at 
least  as  great  as  the  physical ;  and  that  there  will 
be  signs  of  a  consensus  or  material  understanding 
among  the  members  of  each  group  which  cannot 
easily  be  attained  by  individuals  of  different  groups. 
That  this  condition  exists  in  relation  to  the  species 
and  varieties  of  mankind  is  amply  proved,  —  it  is 
indeed  the  very  substance  of  human  history. 

I  turn  now  to  consider  the  process  by  which  an 
organic  species  or  variety  is  established.  Putting 


248  THE  NEIGHBOR 

aside  the  debatable  questions  as  to  the  influences 
which  make  for  such  variations,  there  are  many 
facts  which  all  naturalists  accept  as  certain.  First, 
every  existing  species  or  variety  has  come  into  exist- 
ence by  changes  in  some  way  brought  about  in  an 
antecedent  group  whence  its  form  has  been  derived. 
The  passage  from  the  antecedent  to  the  consequent 
group  is  accompanied  in  practically  all  instances  by 
some  change  of  shape  or  habits  fitting  the  creatures 
to  conditions  to  which  they  were  not  before  adapted. 
The  alteration  is  not  only  in  bodily  form,  it  is  in 
mental  as  well,  for  there  is  some  modification  of 
motives  associated  with  every  bodily  change.  In 
no  instance  as  yet  has  the  process  of  establishing  a 
new  species  been  observed  in  the  field  of  nature,  but 
we  may  obtain  what  seem  to  be  fair  semblances  of 
the  course  of  events  in  our  experiments  with  do- 
mesticated animals  and  plants.  Assuming  that  the 
likeness  is  true,  as  hi  all  probability  is  the  case,  we 
may  proceed  to  state  the  process  of  variation  as  far 
as  it  is  visible. 

When  by  selection  or  other  means  the  descend- 
ants of  a  preceding  species,  —  for  instance,  those 
derived  from  the  wild  stock  of  our  barnyard  fowl 
(Gattus  bankivus)  or  the  common  parent  of  our  do- 
mesticated pigeons  (Columba  livia),  —  are  made  to 
vary  much  in  shape  from  the  original  form,  their 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       249 

habits  also  undergo  some  change.  Thus  with  our 
common  fowls,  ducks,  and  geese  we  find  that  they 
become  instinctively  bound  up  with  man.  However 
neglected,  they  rarely  if  ever  run  wild,  clinging 
obstinately  to  human  habitations.  So  too  with  the 
domesticated  pigeons;  though  they  will  become  in 
a  way  rangers,  they  cleave  to  peopled  places,  never 
becoming,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  find,  really 
wild.  They  may  in  appearance  return  very  nearly 
to  the  shape  and  color  of  the  original  stock,  yet  the 
peculiarities  of  their  mental  quality  remain  strong 
enough  to  justify  for  them  the  name  of  a  distinct 
species.  The  like  is  the  case  with  certain  other  of 
our  domesticated  animals.  So  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  learn,  the  sheep,  the  dog,  and  probably  the 
goat,  do  not  feralize,  though  all  of  them  are  quite 
able  to  maintain  themselves  hi  a  wild  state.  It 
is  otherwise  with  horses,  pigs  and  cattle.  They 
all,  though  rather  unwillingly,  will  adopt  a  life  in- 
dependent of  man.  Thus  about  half  of  the  spe- 
cies which  we  have  in  common  domestication  show 
clearly  that  a  very  considerable  change  has  been 
brought  about  in  their  mental  quality,  for  the  mo- 
tives which  make  them  cleave  to  man  are  certainly 
important  innovations  in  their  original  character- 
istics. To  my  mind,  these  groups  are  hi  their  men- 
tal features  more  specifically  distant  from  their 


250  THE  NEIGHBOR 

wild  progenitors  than  they  are  in  their  physical 
shape.  So  far  as  these  relatively  brief  experiments 
of  man  go  to  show  the  process  of  forming  varieties 
and  species  they  indicate  that  the  variations  of  the 
mind  are  in  general  more  easily  instituted  and  are 
more  permanent  than  those  of  the  body.  If  any 
one  doubts  this  proposition  let  him  study  the  dog, 
in  which  the  intelligence  has  been  in  a  way  revo- 
lutionized by  a  few  thousand  years  of  contact  with 
mankind.  It  matters  not  whether  the  creature  be 
derived  from  a  wild  species  of  the  genus  Canis  or 
whether  his  blood  is  a  mingling  of  several  species,  it 
is  plain  that  great  as  have  been  the  physical  alter- 
ations wrought  by  selection  they  are  surpassed  by 
the  mental  changes  which  have  been  induced  in  the 
stock. 

There  is  evidence  going  to  show  that  in  the  vari- 
eties induced  by  artificial  selection  the  peculiar  forms 
have  a  tendency,  not  always  marked,  to  keep  sepa- 
rate from  one  another,  at  least  when  the  conditions 
favor  their  isolation.  Thus  if  a  number  of  very  dif- 
ferent breeds  of  sheep  are  allowed  to  roam  in  exten- 
sive pastures,  the  several  stocks  will  commonly  herd 
apart  from  each  other.  The  evidence,  though  not 
very  clear,  leads  me  to  the  belief  that  a  distinct  di- 
versity of  aspect  in  practically  all  cases  leads  diverse 
breeds  of  our  domesticated  animals  to  group  them- 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       251 

selves  separately.  The  motive  is  not  so  strong  that 
it  will  cause  a  single  exceptional  individual  to  keep 
away  from  the  others,  but  where  there  are  a  number 
of  each  kind,  males  and  females,  they  will  tend  to 
herd  apart.  This  feature  is  most  apparent  hi  sheep, 
and  least  so  in  horses.  While  this  segregating  mo- 
tive is  apparently  not  strong  enough  to  prevent 
interbreeding,  it  obviously  tends  to  effect  this  end, 
for  the  males  of  separate  herds  are  likely  to  re- 
sist the  approaches  of  the  males  of  other  herds.  In 
other  words,  it  seems  to  me  that  we  observe  in  our 
domesticated  breeds  of  animals,  though  somewhat 
indistinctly,  the  beginnings  of  that  process  of  mental 
isolation  which  is  necessary  to  convert  an  inconstant 
variety  into  the  more  firmly  established  species. 

It  is  evident  that  as  a  new  species  is  established 
it  normally  becomes  a  competitor  against  others  of 
nearly  related  habits  which  occupy  the  same  field. 
It  claims  a  share  of  the  food  and  the  other  oppor- 
tunities the  field  affords.  Its  success  in  the  struggle 
depends  upon  the  vigor  with  which  it  contends  with 
its  rivals  for  the  chances  of  life,  on  the  measure  in 
which  it  presses  upon  the  competing  forms.  In  the 
vegetable  kingdom  and  the  lower  series  of  the  ani- 
mals, this  assault  on  the  rival  appears  as  a  mere 
blind  insistence ;  but  as  the  scale  of  intelligence  rises 
a  distinct  hatred  between  the  contestants  is  apt  to 


252  THE  NEIGHBOR 

develop,  such  as  exists  between  the  species  of  pre- 
daceous  animals  when  they  are  brought  into  contact. 
It  is  with  the  individualized  species  as  with  the  per- 
sonal individual,  each  is  the  centre  of  actions  and 
has  to  maintain  itself  hi  strife  with  its  neighbors. 
Hence  the  inevitable  organic  war  that  exists  be- 
tween all  competing  individuals  and  the  societies 
they  form — a  war  which  is  one  of  the  marks  of  the 
life  that  rises  above  the  lower  inorganic  plane,  and 
continues  unceasingly  until  the  moral  life  begins 
to  develop  hi  the  love  of  kindred  and  to  widen  in 
the  sympathies  of  enlarged  men.  For  our  purpose, 
therefore,  a  species  may  be  defined  as  an  aggregate  of 
kindred  creatures  in  which  the  sympathies  bind  the 
individuals  together  so  as  to  form  a  common  mind, 
but  with  the  sympathies  limited  to  the  fellows  of  the 
kind,  all  beyond  the  bound  being  disregarded,  or,  if 
regarded  at  all,  considered  as  enemies  and  the  sub- 
ject of  active  hatred.  There  is  an  exception  to  this 
rule  in  the  domesticated  animals  which,  by  a  newly 
developed  or  converted  instinct,  came  to  look  upon 
man  as  a  master,  and  to  depend  on  his  presence 
for  a  kind  of  moral  support.  There  are  other  slight 
exceptions  where  species  appear  to  come  into  some 
measure  of  sympathetic  relations  with  others  of  very 
different  nature ;  yet  these  do  no  more  than  accent 
the  grim  truth  that,  hi  proportion  as  varieties  or 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       253 

species  are  developed,  and  as  a  condition  of  their  de- 
velopment, enmity  with  their  competing  neighbors 
necessarily  arises.  The  process  is  indeed  a  part  of 
that  great  work  of  individualizing  life  which  has  led 
to  the  personal  independence  and  efficiency  of  man 
and  to  the  isolation  of  his  communities.  The  bear- 
ing of  all  this  on  the  race  problem  which  mankind  is 
now  facing  is  evident.  It  will  be  further  considered 
in  the  closing  chapter. 

In  considering  the  development  of  what  may  be 
termed  the  specific  motive  in  animals,  it  is  well  to 
note  the  fact  that  it  depends  mainly  on  the  sympathies 
and  hi  very  small  measure  on  the  rational  part  of  the 
mind.  The  individuals  of  each  group  are  moved  by 
tokens  which  excite  at  once  and  strongly  in  all  its 
members,  fear,  rage,  or  other  impulses,  so  that  they 
act  in  common.  There  is  something  very  curious  and 
instructive  in  these  contagions  of  excitement  which 
we  behold  hi  our  flocks  and  herds.  They  seem  ever 
to  be  penetrated  by  the  mob  spirit  which  appears 
from  time  to  time  in  man,  and  compelled  to  act  to- 
gether. In  fact,  this  crowd  motive,  so  far  from  being 
peculiar  to  man,  is  in  him  a  mere  remainder  of  the 
impulse  which  profitably  guided  the  lower  species 
through  which  his  life  came  to  its  higher  estate.  In 
those  lower  forms  where  the  spiritual  individualiza- 
tion  could  not,  for  lack  of  intelligence,  go  far,  it  was 


254  THE  NEIGHBOR 

advantageous  to  have  all  the  members  of  a  commu- 
nity act  together  on  the  lines  of  certain  simple,  blind 
impulses ;  for  thereby  the  society  attained  a  certain 
rude  strength,  as  men  do  in  war.  It  is  on  these 
massive  and  gross  sympathies  that  the  intellectual 
isolation  of  species  comes  hi  tune  to  be  founded.  It 
is,  indeed,  not  unlikely  that  on  then*  origination  de- 
pends in  some  measure  the  beginning  of  specific  vari- 
ation, and  that  among  the  higher  animals  a  species 
is  not  often  firmly  established  until  these  motives 
are  so  organized  as  to  lead  its  members  to  act  in  a 
cooperative  manner  against  all  competitors. 

For  the  reason  that  the  evident  physical  differences 
between  species  blind  us  to  the  unseen  mental  varia- 
tions, the  observer  needs  carefully  to  attend  to  all 
the  facts  which  fairly  lead  him  to  infer  the  intellec- 
tual differences  between  such  groups.  Those  facts 
seem  to  me  amply  to  justify  the  conclusion  that 
among  the  higher  animals  at  least  the  specific  indi- 
vidualizing of  motives  immediately  accompanies  the 
physical  diversification  of  the  new  group,  if  it  does 
not  in  general  precede  it,  and  that  the  mental  iso- 
lation of  the  group  serves  to  preserve  it  from  being 
absorbed  by  interbreeding  with  the  parent  stock  or 
other  related  varieties.  Still  further,  I  find  warrant 
for  the  supposition  that  the  minds  of  animals  are 
more  readily  variable  than  their  bodies,  and  that  by 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       255 

these  variations  the  creatures  are  impelled  in  some 
undetermined  measure  to  new  habits  of  life,  which 
in  diverse  ways,  under  the  control  of  natural  selec- 
tion, bring  about  changes  in  form  and  structure.  This 
view  is  hi  effect  a  mingling  of  the  Lamarckian  and 
the  Darwinian  hypotheses,  two  diverse  views  of  the 
same  subject,  each  of  which  has  in  my  opinion  much 
help  to  give  us  in  interpreting  organic  changes. 

The  likeness  of  the  specific,  common  mind  to  that 
which  we  may  term  a  tribal  or  national  state  of 
mind  is  evident.  The  meaning  of  the  resemblance  is 
to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  a  tribe  or  nation  is  nor- 
mally a  variety  of  a  particular  species  of  men,  or  of 
those  who  are  in  conditions  that  lead  to  the  forma- 
tion of  a  new  species.  When  these  have  attained  to 
a  certain  isolation  and  have  developed  an  indepen- 
dent group  of  motives  and  mutual  understandings 
they  are  on  the  way  to  become  a  separate  species. 
In  olden  times,  when  tribes  or  states  were  small  and 
the  inter- migration  non-existing  or  limited,  the  pro- 
cess of  differentiation  went  on  swiftly,  so  that  in  a 
few  generations  the  variety  was  hi  some  measure 
established.  Under  modern  conditions,  when  nations 
are  usually  great  complexes  composed  of  many  differ- 
ent stocks,  the  development  is  not  so  rapid  nor  is  the 
tribal  motive  of  the  same  nature.  In  place  of  such 
intense  and  narrow  autonomic  spirit  as  existed  in 


256  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  little  states  of  Greece,  we  have  the  broader  spirit 
of  nationality,  yet  in  its  essence  the  condition  of 
mind  is  the  same.  It  is  that  of  sympathy  with  those 
who  are  conceived  to  be  of  the  community,  even  if 
unseen  and  unknown,  and  a  corresponding  dislike 
or  even  blind  hatred  for  those  who  are  of  another 
group.  In  a  word,  the  tribal,  or  in  its  enlarged  form 
the  national,  motive  is  but  the  human  shape  of  the 
ancient  communal  impulse  that  served  to  keep  re- 
lated species  apart.  Not  only  does  this  view  serve 
to  widen  our  understanding  of  organic  processes,  it 
may  also  serve  to  account  for  much  in  the  conduct 
of  human  aggregates  that  would  otherwise  be  inex- 
plicable. 

It  needs  but  a  glance  at  the  doings  of  man  to  show 
us  that  while  the  individual  of  our  genus  appears  to 
be,  and  in  many  respects  is,  a  very  isolated  being, 
he  is  after  all  strangely  controlled  by  a  vast  and 
mighty  though  invisible  influence,  —  the  common 
mind  of  his  tribe,  state,  or  class.  This  is  best  shown 
when  men,  as  in  tunes  of  war  or  other  excitement, 
become  possessed  of  what  we  call  the  mob  spirit,  a 
condition  in  which  for  a  time  they  are  impelled  by 
an  instinctive  sympathy,  such  as  sways  the  brutes, 
impelling  all  the  members  of  the  group  who  are 
near  enough  to  be  contagiously  affected  to  like  rage 
or  fear.  In  the  ordinary  routine  of  a  human  society 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       257 

the  diversities  of  individual  action  conceal  from  us 
the  abiding  influence  of  the  common  mind;  yet  the 
inquirer  finds  that  it  is  there,  influencing  the  course 
of  action  of  every  person,  continually  changing  from 
generation  to  generation,  and  swaying  the  body  of 
folk  with  a  strange  might.  Those  who  have  not  at- 
tained a  sense  of  the  power  of  this  great  unseen  have 
failed  to  gain  that  without  which  it  is  impossible  to 
comprehend  the  meaning  of  society.  Those  who  fail 
to  see  that  this  controlling  motive  of  our  states  is  but 
the  enlargement  of  the  common  mind  of  the  organic 
tribe  as  we  find  it  hi  the  stages  of  life  below  our 
kind,  are  not  in  a  position  to  comprehend  one  of  the 
most  important  conditions  of  human  life. 

This  quality  of  life  which  leads  to  the  union  of 
kindred  individuals  by  the  bonds  of  sympathy  is 
much  talked  about  but  little  comprehended.  We 
commonly  take  sympathy  to  be  an  occasional  out- 
going of  the  mind  to  the  neighbor ;  to  be  a  rather 
seldom  movement  of  the  spirit,  or  a  kind  of  exer- 
cise of  virtue.  The  truth  is,  that  sympathy  is  a  pri- 
mal organic  necessity  which  began  to  exist  many 
thousand  species  back  in  the  series  of  man  and  has 
grown  mightily  hi  his  estate.  Along  with  it  as  a  cor- 
relative has  grown  hatred,  in  itself  a  kind  of  reversed 
sympathy,  each  having  its  appropriate  function  hi  the 
lower  life ;  sympathy  to  unite  the  kind,  hatred  to  keep 


258  THE  NEIGHBOR 

it  whole  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  In  the  state 
of  man  as  it  is  to  be,  sympathy  is  to  expand,  and  to 
expel  hatred ;  even  now  the  two  motives  are  in  con- 
flict with  one  another,  with  the  higher  steadfastly 
winning  in  the  contest.  We  are  at  a  point  where 
the  sympathy  is  indispensable  and  the  hatred  dis- 
pensable. Every  man  has  to  shape  his  thoughts 
with  reference  to  other  men  seen  or  unseen.  He 
can  hardly  think  except  in  terms  that  recognize  the 
fellow-man.  What  was  hi  the  lower  life  an  occa- 
sional and  limited  quickening  of  the  motive  is  with 
him  incessant.  Hence  arises  that  higher  common 
mind  of  our  species  which  is  but  an  enlargement  of 
what  every  variety  of  intellectual  beings  develops. 

Seen  as  we  may  now  behold  it,  the  common  bond 
of  mankind  is  hi  effect  an  instinctive  desire  of  each 
individual  to  identify  himself  with  what  he  conceives 
to  be  his  community.  To  accomplish  this  end  he 
swiftly  and  unconsciously  catches  the  tokens  which 
show  the  motives  of  his  fellows.  In  this  task  he 
exhibits  a  skill  which  is  primitive :  the  same  skill 
we  find  in  the  tent-making  grubs  or  in  the  construc- 
tive rodents.  It  has  taken  ages  of  training  to  endow 
life  with  this  singular  capacity  for  a  swift  contagious 
understanding  of  the  neighbor,  and  the  successes  are 
perhaps  the  most  marvellous  of  organic  accomplish- 
ments. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  VARIETY       259 

Those  who  would  shape  men  to  their  betterment 
need  to  take  more  account  of  the  natural  history  of 
motives  than  they  have  done  in  the  past.  They  need 
to  see  that  they  are  not  dealing  with  the  immedi- 
ate will  of  man  but  with  a  body  of  instincts  which 
has  been  established  by  the  ages,  and  can  only  be 
opposed  by  motives  of  a  high  and  controlling  order. 
Against  these  gross,  unceasing,  brutal  sympathies 
they  must  match  other  sympathetic  motives  of  a 
nobler  sort.  Fortunately  in  that  great  moral  complex 
there  is  a  vast  range  of  efficient  dominant  impulses 
which  can  be  turned  to  good  account.  Sympathy  is 
indeed  not  one  thing,  it  is  a  host  of  diverse  impulses, 
some  of  which,  as  those  th#t  breed  the  mob,  are  of  a 
very  ancient  and  lowly  order ;  others,  such  as  the 
impulses  to  self-sacrifice,  are  almost  infinitely  above 
the  brutal  plane.  Fortunately  the  motive  of  race 
hatred,  once  necessary  for  the  safety  of  species,  is  to 
become,  in  the  moral  order  towards  which  man  is 
approaching,  like  the  survival  of  a  bodily  part  the 
use  of  which  has  ceased.  Even  now  among  civilized 
people,  those  who  have  risen  beyond  tribal  needs, 
this  motive  may  well  be  compared  to  the  appendix 
of  the  caecum,  a  remnant  of  a  primitive  estate  which 
is  altogether  evil,  for  it  breeds  disease. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  WAY  OUT 

THE  aim  of  what  has  been  set  forth  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapters  has  been  to  array  certain  tolerably 
evident  facts  concerning  the  conditions  of  devel- 
opment and  of  contact  of  the  diverse  tribes  and 
races  of  men  with  a  view  to  providing  foundation  for 
some  considerations  as  to  the  way  in  which  various 
grievous  evils  of  human  intercourse  may  be  reme- 
died. The  phenomena  adverted  to  are,  from  a  scien- 
tific point  of  view,  very  interesting,  for  they  serve, 
along  with  much  else  here  unnoted,  to  show  that 
man  is  a  part  of  the  whole  life  of  the  planet ;  that 
into  his  field  of  action  enter  motives  which  were  de- 
veloped in  the  ages  when  in  the  lower  life  his  form 
and  spirit  were  prepared  for  their  tasks.  Their  prin- 
cipal value,  however,  is  to  be  found  in  their  moral 
significance,  in  the  guidance  they  afford  hi  our  con- 
duct in  relation  to  the  neighbor,  in  the  bettered  defi- 
nition which  they  enable  us  to  make  of  our  fellows 
to  the  end  that  we  may  escape  from  the  ancient 
evils  of  hatred.  In  order  to  make  use  of  these  con- 


THE  WAY  OUT  261 

siderations  which  have  been  set  forth,  —  necessarily 
in  a  somewhat  diffused  manner,  —  I  shall  now  sum 
them  up  in  a  brief  statement,  setting  before  the 
reader  what  seems  to  be  the  position  of  man  in  rela- 
tion to  his  organic  inheritances,  and  what  is  his  duty 
by  his  kind. 

We  may  assume  as  certain  that  man  inherits  all 
the  primal  motives  of  his  nature,  along  with  all  of 
his  bodily  parts,  from  the  vast  numbers  of  species 
through  which  his  life  has  passed  in  the  upward 
march  which  began  with  the  lowliest  organic  form. 
"We  may  furthermore  assume  that  the  likeness  of 
his  inherited  mental  parts  to  those  of  his  brutal 
kindred  is  nearly  as  close  as  is  his  bodily  frame 
to  theirs.  Knowing  as  we  do  that  every  component 
part  of  that  frame,  —  bones,  muscles,  and  organs, 
—  was  shaped  hi  the  lower  life,  to  vary  only  in 
form  and  proportion  in  the  higher,  we  may  fairly 
suppose  that  the  mental  powers  have  been  passed 
on  in  a  similar  way.  We  may  grant  that  these  have 
been  developed  amazingly,  so  that  it  is  here  and 
there  difficult  to  recognize  that  they  have  sprung 
from  the  ancient  seed.  Yet  the  facts  tell  that  while 
here  and  there  man  has  gone  far  in  aggrandizing 
his  inherited  parts  and  qualities,  many  of  them  stay 
almost  unchanged.  His  gain  has  been  mainly  in  his 
rational  power,  and  to  a  limited  degree  hi  the  emo- 


262  THE  NEIGHBOR 

tional  field;  for  except  where  emotions  have  been 
qualified  by  reason,  he  is  little  changed.  The  primi- 
tive loves,  hates,  and  greeds  are  hi  the  body  of  man- 
kind so  little  altered  from  their  lower  estate  that 
we  see  at  a  glance  that  they  are  not  to  be  reckoned 
as  human  but,  more  broadly,  as  animal.  We  see 
further  that  the  first  task  of  man  hi  the  manage- 
ment of  himself  within  the  moral  order,  is  to  scan 
those  survivals  of  his  pre-moral  state  and  to  bring 
them  into  the  control  of  his  truly  human  powers. 

To  begin  with  the  inheritances  of  the  instinctive 
order,  we  see  that  in  man  we  have,  first,  the  ancient 
organic  motives  which  relate  to  the  preservation 
of  his  individual  life,  —  hunger  for  food,  fear  of  the 
enemy,  hatred  of  the  rival;  and  along  with  them, 
sexual  greed,  and  the  sense  of  property  hi  the  male. 
The  former,  the  most  fundamental  of  organic  mo- 
tives, are  all  selfish ;  they  relate  only  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  individual ;  there  is  no  sympathetic 
quality  in  them.  With  the  characteristic  feature  of 
organic  life,  reproduction,  the  sympathetic  series  be- 
gins. The  reason  why  this  group  of  motives  should 
have  its  origin  in  the  relation  of  the  generations  is 
easily  seen.  The  young  of  nearly  all  animal  species 
are  born  in  a  feeble  state  and  need  the  care  of  a 
parent,  or  of  both  parents,  in  order  to  bring  them  to 
such  maturity  that  they  may  care  for  themselves. 


THE  WAY  OUT  263 

In  the  lower  forms  this  parental  help  is  given  by 
provisions  and  contrivances  of  a  mechanical  sort, 
though  the  actions  of  the  parents  probably  are 
guided  by  emotions  that  relate  to  the  unborn.  With 
the  advance  to  the  plane  of  the  Mammalia  the  care 
of  the  mother  becomes  more  immediate,  for  the  rea- 
son that  she  suckles  her  offspring.  As  has  been  well 
set  forth  by  several  discerning  students  of  life, 
this  relation  is  peculiarly  well  suited  to  develop 
those  higher  sympathies  which  begin  in  the  mother's 
love.  As  we  advance  in  the  grade  of  the  Mammalia 
who  are  near  our  ancestral  line,  and  especially  in 
the  higher  forms  of  the  series,  the  Quadrumana,  we 
see  that  the  male  comes  to  share  in  some  varying 
degree  hi  the  affection  of  the  mother  for  the  young. 
More  commonly  the  sense  of  solicitude  hi  the  male 
relates  to  the  larger  aspect  of  the  family,  —  that  of 
the  drove  or  the  herd ;  it  is  not  until  we  attain  to 
man  that  there  is  the  discernment  which  makes 
recognition  of  paternity  possible,  that  sense  being 
peculiarly  human,  developed,  most  likely,  at  a  rather 
late  stage  in  the  evolution  of  the  genus. 

It  is  altogether  probable  that  the  first  sense  of 
true  sympathy  in  the  .Mammalia  begins  hi  the  ma- 
ternal relation.  In  the  birds,  however,  —  a  group 
remote  from  our  own  succession,  for  our  common  an- 
cestors are  probably  as  low  down  as  the  Amphibia,  — 


264  THE  NEIGHBOR 

conjugal  affection  appears  almost  as  soon  as  the 
maternal,  and  the  mutual  love  of  male  and  female, 
as  among  the  pigeons  and  parrots,  is  as  devoted  as 
in  man,  and  in  some  forms  more  ineradicable.  In 
the  pre-human  Mammalia  the  love  of  the  sexual 
mate  appears  in  few,  if  in  any  cases,  to  be  well  deter- 
mined, or  to  rise  above  the  plane  of  hunger  or  the 
sense  of  possession.  In  none  of  the  species  of  this 
class  do  we  find  the  survivor  pine  away  on  the  death 
of  the  spouse,  as  is  the  case  with  some  species  of  in- 
tensely monogamous  birds.  In  our  own  series  below 
the  human  plane,  therefore,  we  have  the  personal 
sympathies  limited  at  first  to  the  love  of  the  female 
for  the  offspring,  and  the  less  intense,  but  often  de- 
voted love  of  the  male  for  the  herd  or  class,  or  even 
for  its  kind.  This  love  for  the  community  is  some- 
times evident  hi  the  females  as  well  as  the  males. 
The  cry  of  distress  of  a  pig  will  arouse  both  sexes 
to  sympathy,  but  the  motive  appears  to  be  far  more 
intense  hi  the  males.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
find,  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  any  animal 
below  man,  save  the  dog  and  the  elephant,  shows 
any  distinct  sympathy  with  the  creatures  of  other 
species  than  its  own,  and  these  exceptions  are  so 
affected  by  the  peculiar  conditions  of  domestication 
that  they  do  not  invalidate  the  rule.  The  fact  before 
noted,  that  sundry  other  species  which  have  been 


THE  WAY  OUT  265 

subjected  by  man  cling  to  his  dwelling-places,  may 
safely  be  set  down  to  habit  and  not  regarded  as 
in  any  way  due  to  sympathy.  We  thus  see  that 
nothing  in  the  way  of  sympathy  has  been  brought 
over  from  the  lower  life  to  that  of  man,  except  those 
affections  which  have  grown  up  in  the  family,  —  the 
original  love  of  mother  for  child,  with  the  diffused 
love  for  all  the  members  of  the  family,  and,  its  larger 
shape,  the  tribe. 

The  peculiar  part  of  man  hi  relation  to  the  sym- 
pathies has  consisted  in  his  work  of  combining  and 
associating  them  with  his  rational  endeavors.  Com- 
ing to  understand,  as  the  beasts  did  not,  the  relation 
of  the  father  to  the  child,  he  evolved  the  idea  of 
kinship  with  his  children  and  developed  the  love 
of  the  father  for  his  own  offspring,  a  form  of  the 
parental  motive  which  is  peculiarly  human.  This  ad- 
vance was  not  only  in  itself  an  enlargement  of  great 
significance,  but  it  led  immediately  to  the  develop- 
ment of  a  rational  basis  for  the  tribe,  and  gave  that 
institution  at  once  a  sympathetic  foundation  which 
has  made  it  the  basis  of  all  ethnic  development. 
The  tribe  in  the  primitive  sense  is  a  unit  by  virtue 
of  the  recognized  blood-kinship  of  all  its  members. 
This  extremely  ancient  conception,  the  first  large 
social  idea  that  man  appears  to  have  formed,  has 
shaped  history  as  none  other  of  his  constructions. 


266  THE  NEIGHBOR 

Coming  upon  the  notion  of  blood-relationship  as  the 
basis  of  sympathetic  relations  man  has  amplified 
it  with  his  imagination,  linked  it  with  his  religion, 
with  his  statecraft,  with  his  social  ideals,  so  that  it 
has  ever  been  the  very  foremost  element  hi  his  com- 
munal life. 

The  obvious  tendency  of  modern  society  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  ancient  is  to  diminish  the  atten- 
tion of  men  to  blood-relation.  Many  things  have 
helped  in  this  noticeable  change.  At  an  early  stage 
in  the  advance  of  men  the  conquests  of  the  tribe 
made  it  necessary  to  come  to  some  understanding 
with  extra-tribal  folk.  The  original,  simple  method 
of  slaying  the  conquered  gave  place  to  the  plan  of 
enslaving  them  in  order  that  their  services  might 
be  profitable  to  the  tribe.  The  presence  of  aliens, 
even  as  slaves,  was,  however,  enlarging,  for  it  served 
to  extend  the  conception  of  a  common  humanity 
to  extra-tribal  people.  Thus  the  first  considerable 
betterment  of  the  tribal  motive  came,  as  a  host  of 
others  have  come,  through  the  economic  spirit. 
Along  with  the  custom  of  enslaving  the  conquered 
arose  the  curious  habit  of  adopting  the  captive  alien 
who  had  won  esteem  because  he  exhibited  valor 
in  war  or  endurance  of  torture.  The  fact  that  he 
was  not  of  the  conqueror's  tribe  was,  with  curious 
generality,  met  by  a  ceremony  hi  which  his  blood 


THE  WAY  OUT  267 

was  mingled  with  that  of  some  one  of  his  captors. 
By  this  fiction,  one  of  many  relating  to  the  blood, 
the  rule  of  consanguinity  as  the  basis  of  the  com- 
munity was  maintained.  In  time  the  rite  fell  into 
disuse,  but  the  idea  of  adoption  still  holds  in  the 
laws  and  customs  of  civilized  states,  hi  the  legal 
process  by  which  an  alien  may  be  made  a  member 
of  the  enlarged  family. 

If  space  allowed,  an  interesting  story  could  be 
told  of  the  conditions  of  the  tribes  of  all  primitive 
peoples  known  to  us,  going  to  show  the  singular 
generality  of  the  rule  that  these  primitive  commu- 
nities were  shaped  on  the  human  discovery  of  what 
consanguinity  signifies,  and  on  the  assumed  bond  of 
blood  which  it  institutes  among  kindred  even  of  the 
remotest  degree.  An  essential  feature  of  it  all  is 
that  this  early  view  of  man  concerning  himself  and 
his  relations  usually  assumes  that  the  folk  of  his 
tribe  have  a  peculiar  position  in  the  world  from  the 
fact  that  they  are  hi  some  way  descended  from  the 
ruling  god,  while  those  of  other  tribes  have  no  such 
divine  right.  This  relation  to  the  tribal  god  may 
be  by  direct  generation,  or  it  may  be  that  it  is  the 
result  of  the  creative  will  of  that  power.  In  either 
case,  however,  it  appears  one  of  the  bases  for  the 
peculiar  contempt  and  hatred  for  extra-tribal  folk 
which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  primitive  commu- 


268  THE  NEIGHBOR 

nities  and  so  ineradicable  even  in  most  civilized 
men.  An  inspection  of  the  facts  leads  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  abundant  fictions  serving  to  sustain 
the  isolation  of  the  tribe  are  but  contrivances  of 
man's  intelligence  to  help  out  the  primitive,  irra- 
tional motive  which  developed  hi  the  lower  stages 
of  life  and  led  each  kind  to  limit  its  sympathies 
to  those  of  its  stock.  Many  like  examples  could  be 
cited  to  show  that  the  commonest  misuse  of  the 
reason  and  the  imagination  is  to  devise  notions  to 
support  an  irrational  motive  which  is  strong  enough 
to  be  mastering,  yet  is  felt  to  need  explanation. 

With  the  embodiment  of  the  tribe  in  the  modern 
state  a  number  of  influences  came  into  action  which 
tend  to  break  down  that  primitive  community.  The 
concepts  of  the  state  or  nation,  though  they  rest 
to  a  certain  extent  on  early-developed  motives,  are 
due  mainly  to  human  desires.  The  concepts  of  the 
tribe,  to  a  great  extent  pre-human,  are  hi  a  measure 
taken  over  into  the  state.  The  exclusive  motive 
of  the  lower  association  is  often  adopted,  but  the 
enlargement  of  the  purpose  in  this  modern  form  of 
the  commonwealth  tends  to  destroy  the  grossest 
evils  of  the  tribal  condition.  Mainly  by  the  oppor- 
tunities of  commerce,  in  the  larger  sense  of  that 
word,  the  modern  commonwealth  tends  to  subju- 
gate the  tribal  impulses  which  continue  to  abide 


THE  WAY  OUT  269 

in  it.  Religion  has  unhappily  proved  ineffective 
in  this  work,  because  in  the  tribal  shape,  to  which 
it  inevitably  tends,  it  serves  to  promote  exclusive- 
ness.  Such  tribal  divisions  as  subsist  in  modern 
states  coincide  to  a  great  extent  with  differences 
of  faith,  so  that  the  motive  which  more  than  any 
other  should  serve  for  union  helps  to  keep  alive 
the  impulse  towards  separation.  Trade  has  done 
much  to  help  on  the  unification  of  men  by  bring- 
ing them  in  some  measure  together,  yet  from  the 
essentially  selfish  nature  of  business,  the  contacts 
it  brings  about  do  not  serve  to  effect  a  real  union. 
The  condition  of  the  relations  of  the  Israelites  to 
the  Christians  hi  all  countries,  except,  perhaps,  Eng- 
land, clearly  shows  that  commercial  intercourse  can- 
not alone  be  relied  on  to  do  more  than  mitigate  the 
evil  of  the  tribal  hatred  which  remains  a  menace  to 
commonwealths,  even  where  trade  relations  have 
subsisted  for  a  thousand  years  or  more.  It  is  indeed 
clear  that  some  new  and  larger  way  of  approach  to 
the  solution  of  this  problem  needs  to  be  essayed. 

The  failure  of  our  commonwealth  spirit  to  win 
past  the  tribal  motives  and  prejudices  and  the  per- 
sistence of  those  impulses  despite  the  fact  that  the 
main  purpose  of  Christ  was  to  destroy  them,  show 
that  they  are  rooted  in  the  substance  of  human 
nature,  and,  if  not,  indeed,  ineradicable,  that  they 


270  THE  NEIGHBOR 

will  have  to  be  expurgated  by  some  agency  that 
has  not  yet  been  applied  to  them.  Clearly,  the  only 
way  open  to  us  for  a  new  essay  is  by  means  of  the 
understanding, — by  knowledge,  which,  married  to 
the  sympathies,  shall  give  them  a  measure  of  con- 
trol over  our  feelings  not  attainable  in  other  ways. 
The  purpose  of  this  closing  chapter  is  to  urge  upon 
the  shaping  class  of  our  states  such  a  union  of  mod- 
ern learning  with  the  Christian  motive  as  may 
serve  to  array  the  whole  of  man's  spirit  against  this 
ancient  ill. 

It  should  be  noted  that  in  the  opinion  of  certain 
students  of  the  mind  the  primitive  emotions  are  not 
held  to  be  influenced  by  knowledge.  Against  this 
opinion  I  have  to  contend.  I  hold  that  the  whole 
history  of  human  advancement  is  one  long  story 
of  the  qualification  of  the  originally  inherited  im- 
pulses derived  from  the  lower  life  in  man  and  beast 
by  the  influence  of  knowledge,  —  knowledge  brought 
into  contact  with  the  primal  impulses  through  the 
exercise  of  the  mastering  will.  In  this  path  of  ad- 
vance man  has  gone  far  to  subjugate  the  original 
polygamous  instinct,  replacing  it  by  the  monogamous 
motive.  The  cruelty  which  he  inherited  from  his 
lower  human  stages  has  been  so  far  sublated  that  it 
is  little  seen  save  hi  organized  war.  The  greed  for 
gain  has  been  limited  by  the  development  of  the 


THE  WAY  OUT  271 

sense  of  property ;  and  in  the  field  of  the  aesthetic, 
learning  has  vastly  extended  the  range  and  scope  of 
the  inborn  sense  of  beauty.  So  too  in  religions,  the 
rational  has  at  every  turn,  though  often  only  hi  a 
limited  way,  served  to  modify  and  better  the  field  of 
action.  What  we  have  gamed  as  men  in  the  way 
of  enlargement  has  mainly  been  won  by  just  such 
an  application  of  knowledge  to  native  impulse  as 
we  should  now  seek  to  bring  about  in  the  further 
eff acement  of  the  tribal  evil.  Those  who  would  go 
with  me  in  the  quest  for  a  better  relation  with  the 
neighbor  should  take  with  them  a  clear  sense  of 
the  history  and  station  of  the  organic  individual 
and  of  the  advance  of  that  relation  in  the  series  lead- 
ing to  man.  The  burden  of  these  considerations  is 
not  small,  but  the  most  important  part  of  it  may 
be  summed  up  in  a  few  statements,  each  of  vast 
importance. 

First,  each  person  in  the  organic  series  is  necessa- 
rily a  strangely  solitary  being,  who  for  a  brief  tune 
is  the  keeper  of  the  lif e  of  its  kind ;  its  part  is,  to 
gain  what  it  may  of  profitable  experience  and  to 
transmit  of  this  what  it  can.  This  isolated  state 
of  the  individual,  apparently  complete  in  the  lower 
stages  of  being,  is,  everywhere  hi  the  advance  to- 
wards man,  relieved  by  a  union  of  the  separate  per- 
sons hi  some  form  of  communal  life.  The  result 


272  THE  NEIGHBOR 

is  that  from  the  separate  organic  units  a  new  unit, 
that  of  the  society,  is  evolved,  —  a  new  kind  of  in- 
dividual, which  lives  enduringly  and  can  store  in  it- 
self something  of  the  profit  won  by  its  evanescent 
members.  In  this  social  organization  in  the  stages 
below  man,  the  essence  of  the  tribal  motives  is  fixed ; 
upon  its  firm  establishment  the  enduring  qualities 
of  varieties  and  species  has  intimately  depended. 

The  next  point  is  that  man,  attaining  rationality, 
and  so  endowed  with  the  power  to  criticise  his  ac- 
tions, is  forced  by  his  reason  to  take  account  of  the 
situation  developed  by  his  instincts  and  his  moral 
and  rational  needs.  Among  the  first  of  his  duties 
is  to  inspect  these  ancient  transmittenda  to  see 
what  of  the  store  he  shall  retain  for  its  good,  and 
what  because  of  its  evil  he  shall  seek  to  cast  away. 
This  task  has  been  that  of  man  since  he  began  his 
upward  human  march.  The  work  hitherto  has  been 
done  instinctively,  with  no  recognition  of  its  larger 
meaning,  and  without  the  sanctions  that  knowledge 
affords.  It  is  now  for  us,  with  the  aid  of  all  that 
learning  gives  to  help  us  to  means  and  ways  of  bet- 
terment, to  go  on  with  the  process. 

Unless  the  reader  feels  the  obligation  to  apply 
all  the  resources  of  knowledge  to  the  criticism  and 
improvement  of  the  society  which  he  serves,  he  can- 
not take  the  part  in  that  work  which  belongs  to  a 


THE  WAY  OUT  273 

man  of  his  day.  Some  part  for  good  or  evil  he  must 
necessarily  take,  for  his  life  enters  into  the  com- 
munal life  of  his  people  to  abide  here  while  that 
life  endures.  He  may  dully  limit  that  part  to  what 
it  was  in  the  species  below  man's  estate,  but  in  do- 
ing so  he  will  not  be  a  dutiful  man  of  the  present 
time,  for  he  will  have  put  aside  all  that  knowledge 
has  given  hi  the  way  of  help  for  his  task.  Suppos- 
ing that  we  are  willing  to  act  up  to  the  measure  of 
our  knowledge,  evidently  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to 
examine  into  our  inheritances  to  determine  which 
of  them  are  evil.  This  is  an  ancient  quest;  from 
the  time  our  ancestors  began  to  have  a  glimmering 
of  the  moral  law  men  have  been  engaged  at  it.  To 
them  the  ancient  brutal  lusts  were  the  instigations 
of  the  devil.  They  are  none  the  less  the  devil  to 
us  because  of  our  understanding  that  they  are  the 
remnants  of  the  old  laws  of  animal  life  that  have  to 
be  broken  down  and  cast  away  in  order  that  the  new 
moral  order  may  rule  the  hosts  of  our  kind. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  early  the  moral- 
ists who  began  the  modern  life  of  man  seized  upon 
the  evils  of  tribal  prejudices  and  hatreds  as  the 
very  first  of  the  evils  to  be  cleared  away  in  order 
to  make  room  for  the  higher  life,  and  how  persist- 
ently the  spirit  of  the  tribe  has  fought  against  their 
revelations,  neglecting  or  distorting  their  teachings 


274  THE  NEIGHBOR 

in  order  to  hold  to  those  innately  dear  ills.  This 
secular  battle  of  the  ancient  man  against  the  new  is 
seen  in  several  religions,  but  nowhere  so  plainly  as 
in  that  of  Christ.  It  is  evident  that  while  Christ  set 
his  face  against  all  the  sins  of  the  flesh,  he  above 
all  opposed  the  motive  of  tribal  pride  and  hatred. 
With  a  clearness  of  understanding  which  puts  him 
immeasurably  above  all  other  leaders  he  saw  straight 
to  the  centre  of  the  ills  that  beset  mankind;  saw 
that  they  lay  in  the  lack  of  friendliness  for  the  neigh- 
bor of  every  estate.  He  sought  the  cure  where  we 
have  to  seek  it,  in  the  conviction  that  whatever  be 
the  differences  between  men,  they  are  trifling  com- 
pared with  the  identities  which  should  unite  them 
in  universal  brotherhood. 

The  sense  of  the  situation  of  man  to  which  Christ 
attained  was  won  on  a  different  path  from  that 
which  we,  as  moderns,  are  able  to  take.  He  found 
the  way  to  his  conclusion  as  the  seer  finds  it,  through 
the  emotions,  by  the  power  of  irrational  penetration, 
which  we  as  naturalists  have  to  confess  a  true  way, 
even  though  it  be  not  that  on  which  the  spirit  of 
our  time  bids  us  journey.  The  reason  why  this 
way  has  not  led  men  in  general  to  betterment  is 
that  it  has  to  be  illuminated  by  a  spiritual  light  de- 
nied to  most  of  them.  Ever  since  Christ  taught, 
the  capacity  for  seeing  as  he  saw  has  been  lessening, 


THE  WAY  OUT  275 

probably  because  the  rational,  the  Greek  mode  of 
interpreting  nature,  has  been  gaining  over  the  primi- 
tive religious  mode.  The  two  methods  of  interpre- 
tation have  for  centuries  been  hi  conflict,  and  the 
contention  has  lessened  in  both  of  them  the  power 
they  should  have  had  for  improving  the  moral  and 
social  state  of  our  kind.  On  the  basis  of  Christ's 
teachings,  having  love  for  its  only  motive,  it  was 
possible  to  organize  a  community ;  with  science  in 
its  present  condition  it  might  have  been  practicable 
to  have  contrived  a  working  commonwealth  with- 
out Christianity.  With  the  two  antagonistic  views 
confusing  the  minds  of  men  it  seems  impossible,  to 
judge  from  experience,  to  make  any  head  against  the 
tribal  motives  with  the  resulting  race  hatreds  and 
warfare. 

There  seems  to  be  but  one  way  out  of  our  trouble, 
and  that  is  by  the  union  of  the  influences  of  both 
religion  and  science  for  complete  understanding  of 
human  qualities,  so  that  all  the  help  of  both  groups 
of  motives  shall  enter  into  our  daily  life.  It  is  ap- 
parently out  of  the  question  to  expect  this  effective 
union  to  come  by  the  adoption  into  religion  of  the 
body  of  learning  that  science  has  gathered,  for  it 
unhappily  appears  that  religion  inevitably  becomes 
formal,  and  ordinarily  rests  upon  assumptions  that 
science  cannot  grant.  But  the  organic  motive  of  re- 


276  THE  NEIGHBOR 

ligion,  at  least  of  Christianity,  that  discernment  of 
the  Master  as  to  the  essential  kinship  of  all  men 
and  of  the  love  they  owe  one  another,  is  a  scientific 
fact  that  should  find  its  place  for  its  full  value  in  the 
store  of  natural  learning.  It  may  be  granted  that 
there  is  much  else  in  Christianity  besides  the  doc- 
trine of  human  kinship  and  the  duty  of  love,  but 
that  else  is  not  in  a  shape  to  be  transferred  to  the 
storehouse  of  science  for  the  reason  that  it  cannot 
be  tested  by  scientific  criteria. 

The  reason  why  the  concept  of  Christ  as  to  the 
proper  relation  of  man  to  man  fits  into  the  system 
of  natural  science,  is  that  it  is  seen  to  rest  on  the 
organic  history  of  the  human  group,  indeed,  we  may 
say  of  organic  life.  The  Master  found  it  after  the 
manner  of  the  prophet,  and  based  his  insistence  on 
it  upon  the  ancient  faith  of  men  in  their  seers.  Sci- 
ence discerns  the  truth  in  its  way  by  observing  that 
the  sympathy  or  love  of  related  beings  for  one  an- 
other is  the  result  of  a  slowly  expanding  growth,  — 
a  growth  that  has  gone  on  in  the  chain  of  species 
which  led  the  life  of  our  kind  up  the  long  way  to- 
wards the  moral  stage  of  life.  Next  to  life  itself, 
this  love  of  individuals  for  one  another  is  the  no- 
blest result  of  the  evolutionary  processes.  As  be- 
fore remarked,  it  is  the  correlative  of  the  process  by 
which  personal  individuality  and  the  resulting  iso- 


THE  WAY  OUT  277 

lation  is  developed ;  the  unit  is  merged  in  the  kind 
and  made  a  sharer  in  its  wider  life.  This  process, 
while  it  has  its  greatest  value  in  its  moral  signifi- 
cance, is  none  the  less  a  scientific  truth ;  for  moral 
truths  are  as  fitly  to  be  reckoned  by  science  as  those 
which  are  mathematical.  Clearly  existing,  observ- 
able, computable,  they  are  fitly  a  part  of  natural 
learning. 

Accepting  the  principle  that  the  phenomenon  of 
love  for  the  neighbor  as  understood  by  Christ  is  to 
be  regarded  as  belonging  in  the  store  of  science,  we 
thereby  attain  a  wider  meaning  of  the  science  of 
mankind  than  has  commonly  been  given  to  it.  With 
that  enlarged  meaning  we  are  entitled  to  say  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  new  learning  that  whoever 
would  act  rationally  hi  his  dealings  with  his  fellows, 
whoever  would  bring  into  those  relations  the  best 
help  that  knowledge  can  give,  must  first  of  all  take 
with  him  love.  If  he  does  that  he  is  hi  the  way  of 
light ;  if  he  fails  so  to  do,  he  is  in  the  way  of  dark- 
ness. To  some  people  the  adjuration  to  conform  to 
the  higher  trends  of  organic  development  will  not 
seem  to  have  any  imperative  value,  and  this  for  the 
reason  that  nature  is  to  them  an  undiscerned  realm, 
they  have  no  sense  of  the  history  of  our  kind,  and 
the  story  when  told  to  them  is  mere  words.  But 
this  view  as  to  man's  responsibility  to  the  order  of 


278  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  realm  is  steadfastly  gaining,  and  although  we  are 
hi  the  beginning  of  the  advance,  there  are  many  who 
feel  it,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  it  is  soon  to  be  the 
common  property  of  all  who  shape  our  societies. 

Turning  now  to  the  use  which  may  be  made  of  the 
state  of  mind  that  comes  to  us  from  a  study  of  the 
natural  history  of  man,  let  us  see  what  should  be 
the  ideals  of  our  contact  with  our  neighbor.  First 
let  us  note  that  the  fit  conception  of  him  is  that  he 
is  as  a  man  a  kinsman.  This  view  is  but  an  exten- 
sion of  the  tribal  motive  which  gives  consideration 
to  the  fellow-tribesman  in  the  conception  of  kinship, 
but  denies  it  to  other  men  on  the  theory  of  their 
separate  origin.  From  the  point  of  view  of  science, 
the  identities  existing  between  the  most  diverse 
kinds  of  men  are  vastly  greater  than  the  diversities. 
The  uniting  features  are  essential,  they  include  all 
the  intellectual  and  moral  qualities  that  distinguish 
human  beings  from  the  brutes.  As  such,  the  indi- 
vidual man  who  stands  before  us  is,  whatever  his 
estate,  our  neighbor  in  that  he  is  of  the  strangely 
elect  of  all  living  kinds. 

So  far  as  we  can  we  should  bring  to  the  meeting 
with  this  kinsman  a  sense  of  the  place  he  occupies 
in  the  realm.  I  am,  by  painful  experience,  aware 
how  hard  it  is  to  win  past  the  deeply  founded  com- 


THE  WAY  OUT  279 

monplace  state  of  mind  with  which  we  meet  the 
neighbor.  It  is  impossible  to  take  into  that  contact 
much  of  the  large  understandings  we  may  gain  as  to 
the  estate  of  man ;  yet  I  know  by  the  same  test  that, 
through  dwelling  on  this  conception  until  it  becomes 
an  imbedded  part  of  our  thought,  there  is  developed 
a  change  hi  the  way  of  looking  on  the  neighbor  which 
greatly  helps  us  hi  regarding  him  as  he  should  be 
regarded.  Here  as  elsewhere  the  art  is  to  bring  the 
state  of  mind  bred  of  large  thinking  into  the  routine 
of  life.  The  matter  of  that  thought  is  necessarily  for 
the  closet,  but  the  spirit  of  it  should  be  made  to  fill 
and  direct  the  stream  of  emotions  which  attend  and 
guide  our  action  in  common  deeds.  There  is  no  nov- 
elty in  this  prescription,  it  is  that  of  the  sages  and 
saints  of  all  time. 

An  important  part  of  this  method  of  clearing 
away  the  evils  of  tribal  prejudice  or  the  other  in- 
fluences which  lessen  the  dignity  of  our  intercourse 
with  the  neighbor,  is  to  put  aside  all  trace  of  sus- 
picion of  him.  There  is  an  obvious  tendency  for  all 
sentient  creatures  to  approach  others  of  their  kind 
with  a  certain  fear  of  harm.  This  motive  is  one  of 
the  indelible  marks  in  ancient  experience  of  brute 
and  brutal  man.  Any  one  who  is  trained  in  studying 
his  own  hidden  motives  may  detect  the  impulse  at 
the  moment  of  contact  with  the  stranger.  If  his  ex- 


280  THE  NEIGHBOR 

perience  supplies  him  with  the  means  of  comparison 
he  will  readily  note  that  his  state  of  mind  is  like 
that  of  the  soldier  in  an  enemy's  country ;  fainter  but 
essentially  the  same.  In  the  olden  life  it  was  the 
necessary  state  of  the  individual,  for  until  man  con- 
ceived of  the  moral  law  it  was  himself  against  the 
world.  In  our  time,  it  is  a  disease-breeding  remnant 
of  what  once  served  a  purpose,  a  moral  appendix 
that  now  profits  death  alone. 

By  putting  away  our  own  suspicion  of  the  neigh- 
bor, we  at  once  destroy  what  of  that  motive  he  has 
towards  us.  This  fact  has  been  well  illustrated  by 
my  experience  with  men  in  many  countries  and 
under  varied  conditions,  most  recently  by  contacts 
with  the  people  in  the  long-harassed  rural  districts 
of  Central  Cuba,  where  the  unfortunate  folk  have 
become  so  imbued  with  the  war  spirit  that  the 
countryman  rides  armed  like  a  trooper.  Frequently 
as  I  approached  I  could  see  that  he  loosened  his 
pistol  in  his  holster,  usually  keeping  his  hand  on 
the  butt.  It  was  evident,  however,  that  I  was  quite 
unarmed,  and  as  I  paid  no  attention  to  the  attitude 
of  combat  of  these  men,  they  were  at  first  rather 
disconcerted ;  but  in  a  moment  their  excellent  hu- 
man nature  broke  through  the  restraints  of  custom 
and  they  became  friendly.  It  needs  no  wide-ranging 
experience  to  show  that  with  all  sorts  and  condi- 


THE  WAY  OUT  281 

tions  of  men,  even  with  the  professional  villain, 
confidence  in  their  sympathetic  motive  inevitably 
awakens  a  like  emotion.  The  reaction  is,  indeed,  as 
certain  as  that  which  arouses  fear  or  hate.  It  may 
be  as  safely  assumed  as  any  other  natural  phenome- 
non. I  have  tried  this  method  of  approaching  men 
for  many  years,  often  hi  situations  which  to  the 
doubter  would  have  seemed  perilous ;  yet  so  far  as 
I  can  discern  I  have  been  by  it  so  well  protected 
that  I  have  never  been  near  to  danger.  I  am  sure 
that  the  manhood  of  the  other  man  has  given  me  a 
better  defense  than  precautions  could  have  afforded. 
Thus  the  approach  to  the  neighbor  should  be  with 
confidence  hi  his  essential  kinship  with  ourselves, 
for  the  sense  of  this  relation  is  native  and  deep 
founded  in  all  men ;  however  overladen  with  evil  or 
crime,  it  is  there,  and  the  duty  of  the  true  man  is  to 
find  it. 

Those  who  unhappily  lack  the  capacity  for  imme- 
diate sympathy  with  the  neighbor,  —  our  supercivil- 
ization  breeds  many  such, — will  do  well  to  practice 
themselves  in  studying  men.  It  is  a  noteworthy 
fact,  one  of  the  mysteries  of  the  commonplace  habit 
of  mind,  that  most  people,  for  all  their  contacts  with 
their  kind,  never  as  observers  attend  to  them.  They 
see  them  pass  in  endless  procession,  but  note  only 
those  things  which  have  to  be  seen  in  order  to  do 


282  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  business  of  the  moment.  It  is  not  difficult,  if 
one  has  a  trace  of  the  inquirer's  spirit,  to  change 
this  state  of  mind,  and  in  its  place  to  develop  a 
keen  curiosity  concerning  the  fellow-man.  Most  of 
us  know  that  we  can  become  intensely  interested  in 
plants  or  animals,  music,  bric-a-brac,  philosophy,  or 
what  not,  great  or  small,  so  that  each  feature  of  our 
coUection  will  have  a  personal  value.  Yet  where  we 
find  a  thousand  collectors  of  objects  or  impressions 
in  the  peripheral  fields,  we  hardly  find  one  who  is  a 
collector  of  men.  Now  this  collecting  of  men,  this 
study  of  individuals  in  the  way  of  the  zealous  pro- 
fessional student,  is  the  most  fascinating  and  profit- 
able of  all  the  amassing  habits  which  can  be  formed, 
for  with  each  specimen  that  is  appropriated  the  col- 
lector as  well  as  the  cabinet  is  definitely  enlarged. 

The  art  of  observing  men  is  best  begun  by  the 
study  of  faces.  Very  much  can  be  had  from  the  mere 
contemplation  of  human  countenances,  for  by  this 
process  we  may  form  the  practice  of  noting  what  is 
written  hi  the  fleeting  expressions,  or  what  is  deeply 
concealed  by  the  habits  of  the  mind.  Those  who 
would  approach  the  study  of  their  kind  by  way  of 
these  faces  will  do  well  to  lay  a  foundation  for  their 
work  by  familiarizing  themselves  with  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  lower  animals.  Taking  first  the 
head  parts  of  the  articulates  and  the  cephalopods, 


THE  WAY  OUT  283 

it  may  be  noted  that  while  there  is  a  certain  kind 
of  expression  in  those  shapes,  it  has  no  relation  to 
that  of  man.  In  all  the  vertebrates,  however,  we 
feel  that  their  heads  suggest  those  of  our  own  kind 
in  a  measure  somewhat  proportionate  to  their  ge- 
netic nearness  to  our  genus.  From  the  fish  upwards, 
the  likeness  of  the  face  to  our  own  increases.  In  the 
reptiles  and  birds  it  departs  from  the  type  that 
leads  towards  man.  In  all  of  the  higher  mammals 
we  can  see  traces  of  the  expression  which  we  com- 
monly believe  to  be  characteristically  human.  The 
mother-love  for  a  child,  fear,  rage,  even  contempt, 
are  legible  to  those  skilled  in  reading  such  in- 
scriptions. In  the  higher  monkeys  we  may  discern 
nearly  all  the  emotional  signs  that  we  find  in  the 
faces  of  the  lower  men.  On  this  foundation  of  the 
geological  history  of  the  countenance  it  is  easy  to 
build  a  systematic  study  of  the  human  face.  Such  is 
the  tangle  of  records  on  that  bit  of  the  body  that  no 
one  can  hope  to  attain  any  great  skill  hi  interpret- 
ing character  from  what  he  discerns,  but  the  study, 
if  gone  about  systematically,  will  give  the  intellec- 
tual pleasure  which  always  comes  from  classifying 
objects.  More  than  that,  and  nearer  to  my  purpose, 
it  will  serve  to  endear  these  objects  to  the  observer, 
and  so  to  give  him  a  basis  for  the  sympathy  to 
which  he  would  not  otherwise  attain. 


284  THE  NEIGHBOR 

With  the  study  of  faces  should  go  a  like  study  of 
voices,  for  to  the  skilled  ear,  and  most  persons  can 
attain  the  needed  measure  of  discernment,  the  voice 
is  even  as  interesting  as  the  facial  record  of  the 
mind.  Here  again  it  will  serve  to  lay  a  broad  foun- 
dation for  comparison  by  noting  the  history  of  the 
voice  in  the  lower  stages  of  life.  We  find  at  once 
that  there  is  no  voice  in  any  of  the  invertebrates. 
Some  crabs  click  their  claws  together  as  a  signal  to 
males  or  foes,  and  a  host  of  insects  rasp  out  noises, 
but  the  true  voice  made  by  the  breath  is  found  in 
the  vertebrates  alone.  It  is  clearly  traceable  in 
many  fishes  and  reptiles  as  an  inarticulate  sound. 
It  attains  a  singular  range  in  the  birds,  but  only 
in  the  series  leading  towards  man  does  it  show 
the  peculiar  human  timbre  or  quality.  This  is  sin- 
gularly developed  in  the  Amphibia  through  which 
our  succession  has  passed,  for  the  common  bullfrog 
when  frightened  will  occasionally  give  forth  a  sound 
strangely  like  the  wail  of  the  human  infant.  When 
we  come  to  the  higher  monkeys,  the  nearest  collat- 
erals of  man,  the  tones  and  modulations  are  much 
the  same  as  in  our  genus.  But  while  the  general 
quality  of  the  voice  was  determined  in  the  brutal 
stages  of  our  series,  we  have  in  our  kind  the  emi- 
nent peculiarity  that  the  tone  is  about  as  character- 
istic of  each  person  as  is  his  countenance.  So  far 


THE  WAY  OUT  285 

as  I  have  been  able  to  discover,  the  personal  vari- 
ation in  this  regard  among  the  lower  animals  is 
so  small  as  to  be  essentially  unnoticeable,  except  in 
the  case  of  the  humanized  dog,  where  a  like  indi- 
vidual quality  is  noticeable.  There  are  probably 
slight  differences,  such  as  enable  a  ewe  to  know  her 
own  lamb  by  its  bleat,  but  they  are  very  much  less 
than  among  men.  The  human  notes  are  most  alike 
in  inf  ancy.  They  begin  to  be  diversified  hi  childhood, 
but  take  their  full  individual  stamp  at  puberty. 

It  is  perhaps  worth  while  incidentally  to  remark 
that  this  feature  of  personal  difference  between 
men  is  a  fair  index  of  the  extent  to  which,  as  com- 
pared with  the  lower  forms,  they  are  individualized. 
There  is  no  basis  for  quantitative  determinations, 
but  it  may,  in  my  opinion,  be  taken  as  certain  that 
the  modulus  of  variation  in  the  intellectual  fea- 
tures of  men  is  scores  of  tunes  as  great  as  in  the 
nearest  of  his  brute  kindred.  Physically,  men  of 
the  same  variety  differ  more  one  from  the  other 
than  do  any  equally  related  wild  animals ;  but  those 
variations  of  form  are  trifling  compared  with  the 
diversities  of  spirit. 

It  is  for  each  person  to  seek  the  best  way  in  which 
he  can  form  the  habit  of  coming  near  to  the  neigh- 
bor and  to  determine  the  tests  of  his  success.  In 
general  the  test  that  is  most  trustworthy  is  that 


286  THE  NEIGHBOR 

which  is  afforded  by  one's  state  of  mind  at  the  mo- 
ment of  contact.  If  at  this  moment  the  self  is  put 
aside  and  the  neighbor  takes  its  place  then  the  task 
is  well  done.  Such  is  evidently  the  end  towards 
which  the  process  of  sympathy  is  tending  to  develop ; 
such  is  the  attainment  in  the  love  of  the  mother  for 
her  child,  the  hero  for  his  cause,  or  friend  for  friend. 
That  it  is  winnable  is  proved  by  those  seldom  expe- 
riences of  lofty  souls  which  point  to  the  high  way 
of  man.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  it  can  be  read- 
ily won,  but  it  is  the  goal  to  which  life  is  striving  in 
mankind. 

Let  us  bring  this  ideal  of  the  neighbor,  the  actual 
ideal  of  the  good  Samaritan  of  twenty  centuries  ago, 
into  our  dealings  with  men.  Let  the  first  experiment 
be  with  the  Israelite  for  the  reason  that  for  two  thou- 
sand years  he  has  been  opprobrious  to  the  folk  of  our 
Aryan  age  hi  all  its  civilizations,  and  may  therefore 
stand  as  the  type  of  the  human  shape  which  most 
arouses  our  tribal  prejudices,  and  which  will  put  our 
bettered  understanding  to  an  effective  test.  We 
will  not  take  our  example  from  the  cultivated  mod- 
ernized member  of  the  race  who  is  so  like  our  own 
people  that  analysis  is  required  to  show  him  alien, 
but  rather  the  ancient  "  dog  of  a  Jew "  who  by  his 
face,  mien,  and  phrase  almost  justifies,  in  our  eyes, 


THE  WAY  OUT  287 

the  shame  of  our  ancestors'  conduct.  If  you  al- 
low the  primitives  in  you  to  control,  you  inevita- 
bly revolt  against  the  creature,  and  are  as  ready 
to  harry  the  unfortunate  as  a  thirteenth  century 
Christian.  But  look  at  him  with  an  eye  that  takes 
account  of  what  lies  behind  his  miserable  aspect  and 
behold  a  transformation.  In  that  rude  shape  is  the 
vastest  accomplishment  we  know  hi  the  universe,  a 
man.  He  may  seem  the  lowliest  of  his  kind,  yet  in 
that  same  form  he  laid  the  moral  foundations  of  our 
civilizations  by  work  done  from  one  to  two  hundred 
generations  ago.  In  his  race  is  the  stuff  that  made 
Christ  and  all  the  men  we  know  as  the  prophets, 
and  he  has  for  millenniums  withstood  the  tortures 
of  hell  to  keep  his  noble  faith  as  his  fathers  held 
it.  He  may  be  all  that  his  enemies  charge,  yet  there 
is  hi  him  and  his  kind  the  most  solid  substance  of  a 
man  that  the  world  has  ever  known.  He  has  worn 
out  the  dynasties  and  empires  of  his  persecutors,  and 
stands  ready  with  the  spirit  of  youth  to  face  what- 
ever the  world  sends.  Look  behind  that  offensive 
manner,  particularly  offensive  because  it  happens 
not  to  be  of  our  fashion,  and  you  find  the  faithful, 
kindly  man,  the  trustworthy  citizen,  the  good  father, 
the  far-seeing  inquirer,  the  soul  which  is  the  quick- 
est to  harmonies.  Set  all  this  over  against  the  judg- 
ment to  which  we  are  led  by  the  instinctive  preju- 


288  THE  NEIGHBOR 

dice  and  judge  what  is  the  value  of  such  a  motive 
in  estimating  the  quality  of  the  fellow-man. 

While  any  one  who  knows  the  history  of  the  Isra- 
elitic  folk  even  hi  outline,  and  has  taken  a  little  pains 
to  find  out  the  general  quality  of  their  private  life, 
cannot  justify  the  patently  erroneous  view  to  which 
instinctive  prejudice  leads  men  of  our  race  con- 
cerning that  people,  he  is  likely  to  take  refuge  hi 
his  instincts,  and  to  comfort  himself  with  the  notion 
that  because  natural  guides  they  are  true ;  in  effect, 
he  thinks  that  he  should  loathe  a  Jew  because  he  is 
moved  to  loathe  him.  The  answer  to  this  is  plain.  It 
is  that  where  we  trust  to  our  instincts  for  guidance 
they  lead  us  straightway  to  shame.  The  thief,  the 
murderer,  in  fact  any  kind  of  criminal  can  make  this 
plea  in  justification  of  his  offense.  A  nearer  instance 
of  the  value  of  this  excuse  is  to  be  found  in  the  re- 
volt which  substantially  all  people  feel  at  the  sight 
of  a  mangled  human  being.  This  instinctive  repul- 
sion extends  in  many  instances  to  those  who  are 
seriously  deformed.  It  is  evident  that  this  horror  of 
those  who,  by  their  maimed  state,  have  seemingly 
been  dehumanized  is  of  the  same  order  of  emotions 
as  that  which  the  sight  of  the  very  alien  produces.  In 
both  cases  there  is  such  a  contrast  between  the  crea- 
ture and  our  notion  of  the  kinsman  that  it  arouses 
a  sense  of  repulsion.  "What  is  our  judgment  of  a 


289 

man  who  trusts  his  instincts  and  runs  away  when 
he  sees  a  wounded  neighbor  dying  for  need  of  help  ? 
Yet  the  excuse  is  as  rational  as  is  that  so  often  given 
for  avoiding  the  Jew. 

It  seems  self-evident  that  the  duty  of  a  man  is  to 
bring  to  his  contacts  with  the  neighbor  all  that  he 
has  of  understanding.  There  is  no  other  human 
business  that  is  so  important  as  this  intercourse  be- 
tween man  and  man.  A  vast  deal  of  what  makes  for 
human  advance  or  degradation  comes  about  when  for 
the  moment  these  solitary  creatures  come  into  touch. 
Clearly  what  is  done  at  those  times  is  eminently  the 
work  of  the  world.  In  the  task  which  is  then  before 
us,  vague  "  instincts,"  which  are  generally  mere  pre- 
judices acting  alone,  have  no  right  to  attention  save 
as  they  move  us  to  do  what  we  know  to  be  fitting. 
What  we  need  is  the  very  best  which  reason  and 
sympathy  acting  together  can  provide  for  the  duty. 

Turning  now  to  the  other  instance  of  race  preju- 
dice which  immediately  concerns  us,  we  will  con- 
sider the  conditions  of  contact  of  the  African  and 
the  Aryan.  In  this  association  we  find  that  the  pre- 
judice due  to  the  aspect  of  the  alien  is  apt  to  be 
much  more  decided  than  it  is  in  the  case  of  the  Isra- 
elite, for  while  the  Semitic  differs  from  the  Aryan  in 
shape  of  countenance,  there  is  no  such  unusual  mark 


290  THE  NEIGHBOR 

as  betokens  the  difference  at  a  glance.  With  the  Ne- 
gro there  is  in  the  face,  in  the  character  of  the  hair, 
and,  above  all,  in  the  hue  of  skin  something  which  is 
in  striking  contrast  with  what  we  are  accustomed  to 
take  as  the  rule  for  men.  So  far  as  those  features 
are  concerned,  the  man  is  the  antithesis  of  ourselves. 
Such  contrasts  are  naturally,  and,  in  a  way,  fitly, 
shocking  to  those  persons  who  have  not  become  ha- 
bituated to  the  differences  of  men.  The  disgust  is  not 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  Negro  has  this  or  that  pecul- 
iarity of  body,  but  that  he,  like  the  maimed  or  de- 
formed person,  violates  our  ideal  of  the  human  form. 
This  ideal,  which  remains  in  the  subconscious  part  of 
the  mind  along  with  a  host  of  other  ruling  concepts, 
only  makes  itself  known  to  us  when  it  is  pained  by 
some  impression  that  does  violence  to  it.  We  see  a 
more  abstract  instance  of  the  same  general  nature 
as  that  above  set  forth  when  in  a  new  place  we 
suddenly  notice  that  the  sun  appears  to  rise  in  the 
West.  We  then  find,  what  was  before  unnoticed,  that 
our  ideal  as  to  where  it  should  come  up  is  dear  to 
us.  Many  instances  could  be  cited  to  show  how  our 
concepts  of  peculiar  phenomena,  though  when  philo- 
sophically considered  they  are  seen  to  be  mere  catego- 
ries, are  in  fact  intensely  real  parts  of  ourselves  which 
may  be  wounded  even  as  our  bodily  parts.  So  it  is 
with  all  peoples,  the  sight  of  another  species  of  their 


THE  WAY  OUT  291 

genus  naturally  offends  them.  It  is  probable  that  the 
hatred  of  the  dog  for  the  fox  or  wolf  is  of  this  order, 
there  being  enough  of  likeness  in  the  alien  to  the 
creature's  ideal  of  his  kind  to  indicate  kinship,  and 
at  the  same  time  so  much  that  denies  the  kinship 
as  to  arouse  the  impulses  of  race  hatred. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  so  long  as  the  Ne- 
gro is  so  unfamiliar  that  the  white  beholder  has  not 
had  a  chance  to  modify  his  category  of  human  beings 
so  as  to  include  him,  he  is  instinctively  offensive. 
This  I  was  able  to  prove  by  an  interesting  experi- 
ence. In  eastern  Kentucky  there  is  an  area  of  about 
ten  thousand  square  miles  with  a  population  of  nearly 
two  hundred  thousand  where  Negroes  are  unknown. 
Through  my  camping  in  this  district  with  my  ser- 
vants, great  numbers  of  people  came  to  have  their  first 
sight  of  a  black.  From  the  faces  of  these  people,  as 
well  as  by  questioning,  I  learned  that  one  and  all 
were  painfully  startled  by  the  aspect  of  the  creatures. 
Although  these  mountain  folk  were  devoted  Union- 
ists in  the  Civil  War,  and  are  still  generally  Repub- 
licans, their  dislike  for  the  Negroes  is  so  great  that 
they  rarely  allow  any  of  them  to  dwell  in  the  district. 
The  result  of  this  is  that  in  parts  of  the  South  where 
the  agricultural  conditions  made  slavery  unprofita- 
ble, the  Negro  is  not  often  found,  and  apparently  is 
not  likely  to  be  allowed  a  place  among  the  people. 


292  THE  NEIGHBOR 

The  same  instinctive  social  dislike  which  affects 
the  uneducated  whites  of  the  southern  Appalachian 
district  exists  among  the  cultivated  folk  of  New 
England.  As  before  noted,  a  number  of  persons 
who  sympathize  in  theory  with  the  blacks  on  ac- 
count of  their  oppressed  condition  have,  in  answer 
to  my  questions,  stated  that  they  experienced  a  dis- 
tinct and  painful  shock  on  the  near  approach  to 
them  of  a  member  of  that  race,  and  that  no  amount 
of  habituation  served  to  deaden  this  impression.  I 
have  naturally  been  unable  to  obtain  like  good  evi- 
dence as  to  the  state  of  mind  of  Negroes  on  first 
seeing  a  white  man,  but  the  accounts  of  travellers 
in  equatorial  Africa  clearly  suggest  that  the-  alarm- 
ing sense  of  strangeness  at  the  aspect  of  the  man  of 
the  white  race  is  as  intense  with  them  as  the  oppo- 
site is  with  us.  It  may  therefore  be  assumed  that 
this  state  of  mind  is  normal  and  has  to  be  reckoned 
with  in  the  intercourse  between  very  alien  peoples. 

In  contending  against  the  moral  repulsion  which 
the  aspect  of  the  person  of  an  alien  race  makes  upon 
us,  we  should  have  sufficient  help  from  our  reason, 
which  is  able  to  break  down  the  yet  greater  dislike 
with  which  the  deformed  or  maimed  man  impresses 
us.  A  simple  prescription  for  this  disease  of  the 
sensibilities  may  be  had  from  the  familiar  experi- 
ence of  those  who  come  into  contact  with  such  suf- 


THE  WAY  OUT  293 

fering;  it  is  to  go  at  once  to  the  sufferer  and  lay 
the  helping  hand  upon  him.  Let  me  hi  this  matter 
once  again  import  my  personal  experience,  which  I 
think  is  illustrative.  It  has  been  my  chance  to  help 
many  wounded  men.  In  all  such  cases  when  I  first 
look  upon  the  sufferer  I  am  filled  with  a  disgust 
which  impels  me  to  seek  protection  in  flight.  There 
is,  of  course,  sorrow  for  the  afflicted,  but  this  is  over- 
mastered by  the  intense  desire  to  spare  myself  the 
pain  due,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  to  the  shock  to  my  ideal 
of  what  a  man  should  be.  The  moment  I  touch  the 
sufferer  all  that  horror  immediately  vanishes  and  he 
becomes  that  dear  thing,  the  actual  neighbor.  The 
fact  seems  to  be  that  the  impressions  of  sight  have 
little  awakening  effect  upon  the  sympathies  as  com- 
pared with  those  of  touch.  This  appears  to  be  re- 
cognized in  the  mode  of  greeting  by  clasp  of  hand. 
So  too  in  various  ceremonies  in  which  there  is  a 
laying  on  of  hands.  At  any  rate,  the  effect  of  per- 
sonal contact  with  the  neighbor  who  hi  his  suffering 
revolts  us  is  most  indicatively  effective.  It  shows 
that  the  need  is  to  get  near  to  him. 

It  is  obviously  out  of  the  question  for  us  to  greet 
the  stranger  by  any  kind  of  embrace,  but  it  is  im- 
portant for  us  to  recognize  the  fact  that  in  merely 
beholding  him  we  really  do  not  enter  to  him  but  re- 
main afar  off.  We  should  take  this  condition  into 


294  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  difficult  reckoning  we  have  to  make  in  our  re- 
lations with  our  fellow-man  and  do  what  we  can  to 
remedy  the  matter.  What  we  should  especially  do 
is  to  make  a  thorough  study  of  the  way  hi  which  we 
should  perform  the  sacred  office  of  approaching  the 
neighbor,  and  at  the  time  of  meeting  keep  in  mind 
the  obsessing  effect  of  the  commonplace  spirit  which 
blinds  us  to  the  true  nature  of  all  human  relations 
not  illuminated  by  love. 

It  is  well  attentively  to  consider  the  fact  that 
the  only  human  intercourse  which  does  not  ordina- 
rily fall  at  once  into  the  pit  of  the  commonplace  is 
that  between  lovers  or  between  mother  and  child. 
In  these  relations  alone  as  yet  is  the  spirit  of  man 
Hf ted  above  the  lowly  automatic  plane,  that  which 
he  learned  to  occupy  in  the  prehuman  stages  of  his 
development.  If  we  note  what  happens  in  our  usual 
contacts  with  the  neighbor  we  perceive  that  our  in- 
tercourse is  guided  by  a  group  of  instinctive,  organic 
habits  essentially  uninfluenced  by  emotions. 

If  we  watch  the  behavior  of  children  we  may  see 
that  certain  habits  of  approaching  the  neighbor  are 
born  in  them  and  are  but  slowly  affected  by  educa- 
tion. The  stranger  is  to  the  infant  at  first  an  object 
of  suspicion,  as  he  is  to  the  adult.  All  the  training 
which  a  lifetime  of  wholesome  experience  may  give 
does  not  eradicate  this  ancient,  inborn  instinct  of 


THE  WAY  OUT  295 

fear  of  the  alien.  The  only  way  in  which  it  can  be 
overcome  is  by  love.  We  note  that  in  infants  this 
primitive  fear  of  the  newly  seen  person  lessens  as 
experience  shows  that  the  new  shape  is  not  really 
to  be  feared ;  with  them,  as  with  the  lower  animals, 
it  becomes  commonplace,  —  but  there  is  evidently 
always  in  the  mind  the  reservation  that  the  stranger, 
not  being  friendly,  may  be  inimical.  So  long  as  he 
does  not  come  over-near  it  may  be  neglected,  yet  he 
has  to  be  watched.  The  attitude  of  latent  hostility 
changes  only  when  the  new-comer  into  the  child's 
life  gives  some  evidence  of  real  friendliness  which 
leads  it  to  place  him  in  the  category  of  creatures  to 
be  loved.  It  may  be  no  more,  it  commonly  is  no 
more,  than  some  touch  of  kindliness  in  expression 
or  in  tone  which  serves  the  ready  instincts  of  the 
child  and  awakens  its  love.  Thus  with  young  chil- 
dren there  are  but  two  distinct  categories  for  people ; 
friends  and  enemies.  As  they  grow  to  maturity  the 
third,  that  of  indifferent  people,  who  may  be  consist- 
ently disregarded,  is  formed  to  include  the  greater 
part  of  mankind. 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  the  category  of  common- 
place folk  is  a  product  of  civilization,  the  result  of 
crowding,  and  of  the  safety  which  the  law  affords  in 
well-organized  societies.  In  the  tribal  state  the  divi- 
sion remains  much  as  it  is  among  children.  The  new 


296  THE  NEIGHBOR 

figure,  if  not  recognized  as  a  tribesman  and  therefore 
entitled  to  affection  and  confidence,  is  naturally  re- 
garded as  an  enemy.  Nothing  but  evil  is  to  be  ex- 
pected of  him,  no  faith  is  owed  to  him.  The  idea  of 
any  common  bond  due  to  the  fact  that  he  is  a  man 
is,  in  this  state  of  society,  impossible,  even  though 
the  tribe  be  of  the  highest  quality  of  such  organiza- 
tions. A  good  instance  of  this  is  seen  hi  the  ancient 
Jews,  where  the  alien  could  claim  nothing  on  the 
score  of  his  humanity.  It  was,  as  elsewhere  noted, 
the  peculiar  work  of  Christ  to  insist  upon  the  kin- 
ship of  all  men,  and  to  protest  against  the  tribal  mo- 
tive of  his  people. 

Because  the  category  of  the  commonplace  or  indif- 
ferent man  is  relatively  new,  the  usages  associated 
with  it  are  much  less  well  defined  than  are  those  re- 
lated to  the  other  groups.  "We  all  know  by  ancient 
experience  how  to  treat  those  we  love  or  those  we 
hate,  but  as  to  the  method  of  dealing  with  those  for 
whom  we  do  not  care  there  is  no  end  of  variety.  In 
the  old  days  when  an  unknown  neighbor  was  to 
be  feared,  policy  dictated  that  he  should  be  treated 
with  a  propitiative  courtesy  if  of  station  that  indi- 
cated that  he  might  be  dangerous,  or  with  conde- 
scension if  his  state  was  evidently  much  inferior  to 
one's  own.  But  when,  with  the  greater  safety  of  our 
modern  society,  the  danger  or  profit  to  be  reckoned 


THE  WAY  OUT  297 

from  the  stranger  has  become  negligible,  he  is  gen- 
erally neglected.  If  we  watch  the  conditions  of  con- 
tact hi  those  places  where  men  are  thrown  closely 
together,  as  on  crowded  streets,  it  is  easy  to  perceive 
that  they  generally  take  no  note  of  each  other's  ex- 
istence except  so  far  as  is  necessary  to  avoid  physi- 
cal accidents.  In  this  condition  the  fellow-man  is  no 
more  than  a  moving  object  which  has  to  be  avoided 
as  one  would  avoid  a  rolling  stone.  While  this  neg- 
atively brutal  relation  with  the  neighbor  hi  a  throng 
is  necessary,  it  must  be  regarded  as  the  greatest  of 
the  many  evils  arising  from  the  crowding  of  people 
in  those  social  congestions  of  our  great  towns,  for  it 
breeds  a  habit  of  disregard  of  the  fellow-man.  We 
may  manage  by  sanitary  precautions  to  avoid  the 
bodily  dangers  which  arise  from  our  social  conges- 
tions, but  there  is  little  chance  that  we  shall  ever  be 
able  to  accomplish  any  betterment  of  the  spiritual 
ills  that  it  entails. 

If  we  observe  what  takes  place  hi  ourselves  when 
in  a  throng  any  one  accosts  us,  we  may  see  a  little 
further  into  the  peculiar  state  of  mind  of  people  in  a 
crowd  and  note  that  each  is  curiously  and  for  de- 
fense withdrawn  into  his  cell.  Even  if  the  person 
who  addresses  us  is  a  well-known  friend  whom  we 
should  have  instantly  recognized  had  he  been  iso- 
lated, we  are  likely  to  find  that  we  have  trouble  in 


298  THE  NEIGHBOR 

remembering  him,  we  have  to  work  out  of  our  prison 
before  we  can  really  see  him.  It  is  indeed  evident 
that  except  we  deliberately  and  with  some  difficulty 
force  ourselves  into  a  sympathetic  attitude  towards 
those  who  are  driven  into  contact  with  us  we  in- 
stinctively seek  protection  by  avoiding  all  conscious- 
ness of  their  presence.  This  is  a  most  unwhole- 
some state  of  mind ;  one  that  goes  contrary  to  the 
primitive  human  instincts  which  lead  us  to  take 
account  of  every  creature  that  has  the  shape  of  our 
kind,  accounting  him  friend  or  foe.  Even  enmity  to 
the  neighbor  is  better  than  this  trained  indifference 
which  the  conditions  of  our  massed  societies  induce. 
In  watching  the  behavior  of  a  throng  of  people 
we  readily  perceive  that  there  is  a  very  considera- 
ble range  in  the  phenomena  of  contact  they  severally 
exhibit.  The  man  from  the  country  who  is  unaccus- 
tomed to  adjust  himself  to  the  conditions  of  a  crowd 
retains  his  instinctive  sense  of  the  neighbors:  he 
goes  forth  to  them  with  merriment  or  hostility.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  townsman  keeps  himself  spirit- 
ually aloof  even  if  buffeted  hi  the  press.  Now  and 
then  we  may  note  the  curious  phenomenon  of  the 
mob  spirit,  which  shows  us  how  artificial  is  the  iso- 
lation which  men  may  establish  in  order  to  protect 
themselves  from  their  neighbors.  If  there  happen 
to  be  some  common  interest  to  move  them,  some 


THE  WAY  OUT  299 

rage  or  affection  that  impels  them  all  to  the  same 
purpose,  the  host  at  once  becomes  strangely  united. 
It  is  no  longer  composed  of  men  who  seek  isolation, 
but  the  units  join  like  raindrops  in  a  current  that 
sweeps  them  on.  This  change  may  take  place  with 
wonderful  suddenness  and  bring  about  very  singu- 
lar results,  some  of  which  are  of  value  to  our  in- 
quiry and  need  the  discussion  which  I  shall  now  give 
them. 

Observant  persons  who  have  been  in  a  crowd  when 
the  mob  spirit  has  suddenly  developed  will  probably 
agree  with  me  as  to  certain  features  of  those  strange 
contagions  of  motive.  The  most  evident  point  is  the 
quickness  with  which  a  spirit  of  association  is  devel- 
oped: the  movements,  however  aimless,  are  made 
hi  common,  so  that  the  throng,  without  willing  it, 
acts  as  a  united  body.  Another  less  evident  but  most 
important  feature  is  that  the  motives  of  action  are 
always  of  a  very  primitive  kind.  In  the  milder  in- 
stances of  the  contagion,  the  common  impulse  may 
be  affection  for  a  hero  such  as  leads  his  admirers  to 
carry  him  on  their  shoulders.  In  the  more  distinctly 
mob- like  action  a  rude,  sportive  impulse  may  be  the 
guide.  In  the  real  mob,  however,  when  we  mean  all 
that  the  word  implies,  the  motive  is  often  that  of 
rage  which  is  not  satisfied  with  mere  slaying  but  re- 
quires for  its  gratification  the  utmost  cruelty  that 


300  THE  NEIGHBOR 

can  be  invented.  The  most  singular  part  of  the  pro- 
cess which  develops  the  mob  is  that  it  leads  to  the 
immediate  overthrow  of  all  those  sympathies  which 
characterize  the  isolated  and  independently  acting 
men,  bringing  them,  for  the  time,  into  the  state  of 
the  primitive  brutes.  While  possessed  of  this  spirit 
a  body  of  men  or  even  of  women,  who  acting  indi- 
vidually would  be  fairly  merciful,  unable  even  when 
enraged  to  torture  an  enemy,  become  changed  to 
demons.  We  see,  hi  a  word,  that  people  associated 
in  passionate  action  constitute  a  new  land  of  human 
being,  one  that  has  a  primitive  animal  nature,  if  so 
to  term  it  be  not  injustice  to  the  brutes. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  mob  spirit  that  it  gen- 
erally endures  but  for  a  short  time,  and,  further, 
that  it  does  not  develop  except  when  considerable 
numbers  of  persons  are  associated.  The  psychologi- 
cal crisis  rarely  endures  for  more  than  a  few  hours. 
The  longest  assault  of  this  nature  appears  to  have 
been  that  of  the  "Terror"  of  the  French  Revolution 
of  1793,  when  it  appears  to  have  continued  for  some 
months.  In  fact  the  Gallic  mind,  as  is  shown  by  the 
numerous,  long  continued  attacks  of  mob-madness, 
appears  to  be  curiously  prone  to  obstinate  and  ter- 
rible fits  of  this  nature.  I  am  not  aware  of  any  in- 
stances among  the  English  or  Teutonic  folk  where 
this  crowd-madness  has  endured  as  much  as  a  week. 


THE  WAY  OUT  301 

As  for  the  numbers  required  to  afford  the  conditions 
suited  to  the  development  of  the  mob  spirit  it  may 
be  said  that  the  throng  must  be  great  enough  to  in- 
spire its  members  with  a  sense  of  power ;  the  idea 
of  multitude  appears  necessary  for  its  awakening. 

It  should  be  here  said  that  although  the  mob 
motive  is  usually  associated  with  lynchings,  it  is 
not  necessarily  a  part  of  such  actions.  In  many  in- 
stances of  rude  frontier  justice,  where  men  have  been 
compelled  to  act  in  unlawful  ways  hi  order  to  obtain 
protection  against  criminals,  that  action  has  been  in 
no  wise  influenced  by  what  I  have  termed  crowd- 
madness  ;  it  has  indeed  been  distinctly  parted  from 
it  by  the  fact  that  it  was  judicially  conceived,  and 
carried  out  in  the  manner  of  stern  men  who  were  in 
no  measure  possessed  by  the  torturing  spirit  which 
is  characteristic  of  the  true  mob. 

Those  who  have  had  a  chance  to  observe  people 
who  were  possessed  of  the  ancient  devil  of  the  mob 
are  likely  to  have  noted  that  they  acquire  a  singu- 
lar and  uniform  expression,  their  faces  have  a  kind 
of  pinched,  staring  look,  which  reminds  one  of  peo- 
ple who  are  hypnotized.  They  respond  to  sugges- 
tions in  the  automatic,  insensate  manner  of  hypnosis. 
It  appears  to  me  quite  probable  that  they  are  hi 
some  measure  hypnotized  and  have  thereby  been 
brought  into  a  state  in  which  only  a  part  of  their 


302  THE  NEIGHBOR 

several  natures  is  active  and  that  the  lower  part. 
Their  look  and  behavior  clearly  indicate  the  state 
designated  of  old  as  "possession,"  which  is  now 
generally  recognized  as  induced  by  or  related  to  the 
hypnotic  condition. 

It  appears  evident  that  the  phenomena  of  crowd- 
madness  are  by  no  means  limited  to  what  is  exhib- 
ited by  an  ordinary  mob.  In  many  other  ways  we 
see  the  same  impulse  due  to  this  state  of  mind. 
Thus  in  an  army  we  may  often  see  the  contagion 
affect  large  bodies  of  men  who  are  still  under  the 
control  of  discipline ;  the  greater  part  of  the  heroic 
work  of  battle  as  well  as  its  most  shameful  panics 
are  impelled  by  this  motive.  The  successful  orator 
commonly  effects  his  end  not  by  an  appeal  to  the 
intelligence  of  his  audience  as  individual  men;  by 
his  -art,  particularly  by  the  quality  of  his  voice  and 
by  certain  incantation-like  modes  of  speech,  he  con- 
verts the  many  into  a  united  whole  over  which 
even  irrational  suggestions  will  have  a  great  sway- 
ing power.  Those  who  have  beheld  the  old-fash- 
ioned religious  revivals  have  seen  good  examples  of 
this  hypnotic  and  suggestive  action.  An  excellent 
example  of  the  same  nature  may  be  found  in  the 
political  history  of  this  country.  In  the  democratic 
national  convention  held  in  1896,  a  clever  orator, 
marvellously  endowed  with  this  swaying  power,  so 


THE  WAY  OUT  303 

moved  the  delegates  to  crowd-madness  that  quite 
against  their  judgment  they  made  him  their  can- 
didate for  the  presidency.  This  singular  capacity, 
vulgarly  but  not  inaptly  termed  "spell  binding," 
enabled  that  clever  rhetorician  to  retain  control  of 
nearly  half  the  voters  of  the  United  States  for  at 
least  five  years.  History  affords  many  instances  of 
a  like  captivating  power  which  has  enabled  its  pos- 
sessors to  determine  the  conduct  of  men  by  putting 
their  wits  to  sleep,  but  hi  no  other  modern  example 
has  this  curious  ability  been  displayed  on  so  vast  a 
scale  among  an  intelligent  people. 

The  contagion  which  finds  its  most  intense  ex- 
pression hi  the  ferocity  of  a  mob  passes,  by  insen- 
sible gradations,  through  the  admixture  of  other 
motives,  into  fields  of  action  where  its  existence 
would  hardly  be  suspected.  Thus  the  movements  of 
what  is  called  public  opinion  are  evidently  in  large 
measure  affected  by  the  emotions  which  tend  to 
make  men  hi  contact  think  alike.  Although  I  am 
not  a  believer  hi  what  is  termed  thought  transfer- 
ence, the  experiments  on  which  others  rest  their 
belief  show  clearly  the  intense  and  instinctive  de- 
sire of  people  to  shape  their  concepts  on  those  of 
their  neighbors.  Most  men  contend  against  their 
own  native  individuality  because  they  hunger  for  a 
sympathetic  mergence  with  their  kind,  and  if  the 


304  THE  NEIGHBOR 

throng  hates  Jews  or  Negroes,  or  adores  this  or 
that  of  art,  they  must  share  in  the  motive.  In  this 
we  have  a  lowly,  herd-like  stage  of  that  sympathy 
which  hi  its  higher  estate  gives  us  the  best  the 
world  affords  in  the  relations  of  men.  In  this  primi- 
tive level  its  results  are  mostly  evil  for  the  reason 
that  in  all  forms  of  crowd-madness,  however  much 
they  may  have  of  nobility  in  the  impulse  which 
guides  in  the  action,  the  result  has  something  of 
the  quality  of  the  mob's  work.  It  is  irrational,  and 
therefore  tends  to  fall  into  the  plane  of  the  lower 
motives. 

Here  the  reader  may  naturally  ask  whether  this 
condemnation  does  not  extend  to  all  the  sympathies 
which  move  great  masses  of  folk  to  common  action. 
Whether,  for  instance,  patriotism  in  its  belligerent 
expressions  does  not  come  under  the  category  of 
crowd-madnesses.  The  answer  seems  to  me  inevi- 
tably clear.  It  is  that  all  the  teachings  of  experi- 
ence go  to  show  how  social  movements  determined 
by  sympathies  not  greatly  qualified  by  reason  —  so 
far  qualified  that  they  are  essentially  rational  — 
are  necessarily  evil.  Thus  the  patriotic  motive,  pro- 
vided it  rests  upon  the  judgment  of  a  man,  may  be 
the  noblest  that  awakens  in  him,  for  at  its  best  it 
embodies  more  lofty  qualities  than  any  other.  But 
where  the  motive  is  but  the  wild  spirit  of  the  tribe 


THE  WAY  OUT  305 

which  sets  up  its  success  in  contending  with  other 
tribes  as  the  most  desirable  thing  in  the  world,  it  is, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  enlarged  man,  essen- 
tially ignoble  because  it  is  irrational.  The  patriotism 
which  lifts  us  in  this  day  is  that  which  considers 
before  it  moves ;  it  takes  into  account  many  things 
beside  the  primitive  wild  cry  that  finds  expression 
in  such  a  phrase  as  "  our  country,  right  or  wrong," 
and  leads  men  straight  away  to  do  the  devil's  work 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  It  is  high  time  that  we 
should  sit  down  to  consider  what  patriotism  really 
is,  so  that  we  may  purge  it  of  the  mob  spirit  which 
now  often  masquerades  under  its  name.  Whoever 
does  this  task  with  reason  for  his  guide  will  find 
that  his  true  allegiance  is  due,  not  to  bits  of  earth 
or  prejudices  of  tribes,  but  to  large  purposes ;  to  the 
great  movements  for  the  advance  of  mankind,  and 
to  the  over-ruling  order  of  this  world.  If  it  happens 
that  this  enlarged  faith  leads  him  away  from  his 
people,  even  makes  him  seem  to  the  vulgar  a  traitor, 
it  should  not  halt  his  steps.  He  knows  that  the  day 
of  the  tribe  is  past  and  that  it  is  his  part  to  act  for 
larger  purposes  than  it  embodies. 

What  we  have  seen  above  of  the  effect  of  the 
motives  of  the  throng  in  the  gradations  from  mere 
fashion  to  the  crowd-madness  of  the  mob  is  help- 
ful to  our  purpose,  for  it  serves  to  explain  certain 


306  THE  NEIGHBOR 

features  of  the  complex  motives  which  constitute 
race  hatreds.  We  best  see  the  application  by  con- 
sidering what  would  happen  in  case  we  reared  and 
soundly  educated  a  youth  in  conditions  which  would 
permit  him  to  come  into  contact  with  those  of  alien 
race  without  any  acquaintance  with  the  prejudices 
concerning  such  people  which  he  normally  acquires 
through  literature  or  tradition.  Coming,  we  will 
suppose,  into  contact  with  Jews,  this  youth  would 
pretty  surely  note  that  they  differed  from  his  kin- 
dred in  certain  notable  ways.  Some  of  these  ways 
would  offend  him,  but  he  would  be  accustomed  to 
like  offenses  from  his  own  kind  and  would  learn,  as 
we  all  have  to,  that  men  are  to  be  taken  in  sum, 
their  good  set  against  their  bad  qualities.  Against 
the  carnality  and  greed  of  the  Jew  he  would  set  his 
essential  kindliness,  untiring  industry,  and  faith  that 
answers  faith.  By  forming  a  fresh  and  independent 
judgment  concerning  the  Semite  he  would  be  able 
to  do  what  men  of  the  Aryan  race  hi  twenty-five 
centuries  of  intercourse  have  not  done.  He  would 
have  a  chance  to  escape  from  the  control  of  tradi- 
tion which  necessarily  embodies,  along  with  much 
that  is  good,  the  lowest  motives  of  his  people,  its 
rages,  hatreds,  and  other  uncleanliness,  —  a  chance 
which  is  denied  the  best  of  us  who  are  soaked  in 
this  excretion  known  as  "  public  opinion." 


THE  WAY  OUT  307 

The  lesson  we  learn  from  the  study  of  crowd- 
madness  is  that  the  supreme  need  in  our  life  is  for 
clean  individual  thought  and  action  hi  all  that  re- 
lates to  the  alien  neighbor.  We  may  fairly,  and  hi 
the  main,  trust  to  the  tribal  state  of  mind  for 
guidance  hi  all  that  concerns  those  who  are  by 
birthright  near  to  us,  for  there  the  sympathies  are 
so  far  quickened  by  training  that  they  act  when 
and  as  they  should ;  but  for  all  that  relates  to  the 
remote  man,  these  impulses  of  the  throng,  because 
they  were  shaped  in  the  ancient,  lowly  life,  are  far 
from  helpful,  hi  fact,  they  hinder  our  way  to  right 
doing.  For  this  new  life  we  need  the  new  light 
that  comes  to  us  through  the  discerning  sight  of 
Christ,  and  from  our  larger  knowledge  of  what  life 
means.  These  show  us  that  we  need  to  deal. with 
our  neighbors  not,  as  our  inheritances  of  custom  dic- 
tate, hi  the  categoric  way,  but  as  individuals,  —  and 
this  because  we  are  individually  responsible  for  the 
justice  and  mercy  which  is  the  neighbor's  due. 

What  has  been  set  forth  hi  the  preceding  parts 
of  this  book  has  been  presented  somewhat  diffusely. 
This  matter  of  human  contacts  is  indeed  so  vast  that 
any  effort  to  discuss  it  in  an  orderly  way  would  have 
led  to  a  formality  of  statement  which  would  have  de- 
feated the  object  which  I  had  hi  view.  Yet  hi  order 


308  THE  NEIGHBOR 

to  attain  my  end  I  shall  sum  up  these  considerations 
In  this  final  chapter  and  try  to  show  how  they  should 
affect  our  relations  with  the  fellow-man. 

First  let  me  ask  the  reader  to  give  over  so  far  as 
he  can  the  commonplace  trivial  view  of  himself  which 
comes  from  the  momentary  nature  of  his  self-con- 
sciousness, and  to  see  that  self  as  it  is  now  clearly 
discernible  as  the  most  marvellous  product  of  the 
ages  which  this  world  can  ever  disclose.  He  should 
understand  that  what  he  holds  is  the  inheritance 
from  incalculably  numerous  ancestors ;  that  perhaps 
a  hundred  thousand  species  have  helped  to  build 
and  transmit  life  to  him.  Over  this  store  of  the  past 
his  personal  self  has  control ;  not  of  it  all,  for  the 
most  that  goes  on  hi  his  individuality,  both  in  the 
body  and  in  the  mind,  is  as  unknown  to  him  as 
though  the  action  were  in  another  planet,  but  enough 
is  consciously  his  own  to  afford  the  ample  resources 
of  joy  and  duty  which  it  is  his  privilege  to  know. 

The  second  point  we  should  attend  to  is  that  the 
foremost  duty  of  man  is  to  take  account  of  what  has 
come  to  him  hi  the  way  of  inheritance,  and  to  part 
the  evil  from  the  good.  The  province  of  moral  action 
consists  mainly  in  this  criticism  of  that  which  has 
come  to  us  from  the  past,  and  in  the  rejection  of  all 
that  does  not  fit  the  higher  life  of  man.  Whoever 
does  this  task  faithfully  advances  towards  the  higher 


THE  WAY  OUT  309 

stages  of  existence  that  open  before  his  kind ;  who- 
ever fails  of  this  duty  remains  in  the  bondage  of  the 
brute  and  the  brutal  man. 

The  third  consideration  is  that  the  solitary  indi- 
vidual man  cannot  find  his  life  within  himself  — 
all  but  the  lowliest  part  of  it  is  won  by  friendly 
relations  with  his  fellows.  On  the  measure  of  the 
sympathy  which  he  gives  to  his  kindred  depends  his 
fullness  as  a  man ;  depends  also  the  station  he  attains 
hi  the  higher  lif e  towards  which,  hi  part  by  the  laws 
of  that  life,  hi  part  by  the  action  of  his  will,  he  is 
striving.  The  development  of  this  sympathy  hi  the 
lower  grades  of  human  society  has  been  limited  by 
the  physical  conditions  of  men,  by  the  narrowness 
of  the  family,  and  afterwards  of  the  clan  or  tribe 
which  came  from  it.  Ages  ago  in  all  the  developed 
races  the  stage  of  the  limited  tribal  sympathies  was 
passed,  but  the  limitation  has  been  maintained  by  a 
combination  of  motives  so  strong  that  it  has  effec- 
tively defeated  the  main  purpose  of  Christ,  even 
among  those  who  regard  themselves  as  his  most 
faithful  disciples. 

The  fourth  point  is  this.  Inasmuch  as  the  highest 
form  of  religion  in  the  keeping  of  that  race  which 
must  be  accounted  the  noblest  has,  for  near  two 
millenniums,  signally  failed  to  make  head  against 
the  tribal  motive,  or  to  bring  about  any  distinct  ad- 


310  THE  NEIGHBOR 

vance  in  the  relation  of  individual  men  to  each  other, 
we  have  to  consider  whether  the  task  has  not  to  be 
abandoned  as  beyond  human  power  to  accomplish. 
The  answer  to  be  made  to  this  is  that  we  have  yet 
to  essay  a  reinforcement  of  the  sympathetic  motive 
with  the  vast  addition  which  modern  knowledge  af- 
fords. We  have  yet  to  see  what  the  understandings 
of  man  can  do  for  his  advancement  on  the  ways  to 
which  his  higher  sympathies  direct  him.  It  is  evi- 
dent that  hi  certain  fields  great  advances  have  been 
made  in  human  relations  by  the  combination  of  rea- 
son and  altruistic  motives,  and  this  gives  us  ground 
to  hope  that  the  association  is  able  to  accomplish 
the  even  more  difficult  work  which  is  before  it.  We 
see  that  in  the  system  of  organized  society  this  asso- 
ciation of  rationality  and  impulse  has  really  bettered 
the  relations  of  man.  It  is  true  that  this  betterment 
has  not  gone  far  in  matters  which  affect  the  personal 
relations  of  man  with  man ;  nevertheless,  they  have 
broken  down  the  ancient  system  of  tribal  rights, 
and  there  is  no  good  reason  to  doubt  their  ability, 
with  an  added  measure  of  rationality,  to  break  down 
the  remainder  of  the  primitive  motives  such  as  now 
shames  our  civilization  and  degrades  our  common- 
wealths. 

If  the  reader  would  attempt  this  method  of  better- 
ment he  should  see  that  the  only  way  to  success  is 


THE  WAY  OUT  311 

through  himself,  by  the  reformation  of  his  own  hab- 
its of  thought  and  action.  Let  him  in  this  task  face 
the  peculiar  difficulties  due  to  the  fact  that  all  which 
can  be  done  has  to  be  effected  within  his  own  soul,  — 
wherein  lies  the  most  important  difference  between 
the  betterments  of  human  contacts  and  the  advance- 
ment of  social  or  political  order.  In  this  latter  work 
we  seek  to  make  others  do  that  which  we  see  to 
be  fit ;  in  the  former  it  is  ourself  we  have  to  com- 
pel. Unhappily  there  is  a  mighty  difference  between 
these  two  modes  of  action.  Notwithstanding  some 
slight  and  insecure  gains,  the  most  potent  influence 
that  has  ever  come  to  man  hi  the  form  of  organized 
sympathy,  the  Christian  religion,  has  failed  to  sway 
man  to  this  domination  of  himself.  It  may  indeed 
be  reasonably  held  that  we  are  not  much  nearer  the 
end  than  we  were  at  the  birth  of  Christ.  There  is 
no  use  hi  glossing  over  the  difficulties  of  this  situa- 
tion or  of  allowing  the  sympathies  to  lead  us  to 
such  idle  hopes  of  swift  conquests  as  have  beguiled 
the  faithful  for  nineteen  centuries.  We  have  to  sit 
down  before  this  ancient  stronghold  of  evil  prepared 
for  a  hard  siege. 

The  prime  need  in  this  endeavor  to  better  our  re- 
lations with  the  neighbor  is  to  keep  in  mind  what 
we  know  of  our  human  history,  and  by  so  doing  to 
restrain  the  influence  of  the  commonplace  state  of 


312  THE  NEIGHBOR 

mind  which  leads  us  to  look  upon  him  as  an  alien. 
My  experience  shows  me  that  this  task,  though  by 
no  means  easy,  is  entirely  possible.  The  help  will 
not  come  by  mere  knowledge  of  what  the  fellow-man 
really  is  and  what  he  means  to  us,  knowledge  such  as 
I  have  endeavored  to  set  forth  in  this  writing,  for  all 
that  of  itself  is  mere  information  and  as  such  has 
no  compelling  power  in  shaping  relations.  It  has  by 
meditation  to  be  fused  with  the  sympathies,  so  that 
it  acquires  what,  for  lack  of  a  better  word,  we  may 
term  the  religious  motive,  —  that  union  of  the  whole 
spirit  in  fervent  noble  desire  for  the  betterment  of 
man,  which  is  the  essence  of  all  higher  faiths. 

Perhaps  the  most  encouraging  part  of  the  help 
which  the  modern  learning  can  give  us  in  our  quest 
is  that  relating  to  the  history  of  the  sympathetic 
bond.  When  we  behold  the  steadfast  way  in  which, 
through  the  ages,  the  necessarily  sundered  individ- 
uals have  steadily  tended  to  unite  themselves  in 
the  larger  whole  of  societies,  and  how  man  is  effect- 
ively man  because  of  his  great  advance  hi  this  pro- 
cess of  union,  we  feel  ourselves  on  a  clearly  de- 
fined way,  which  is  the  easier  for  this  definition. 
Wherever  a  man  turns  hi  action  he  finds  that  he 
has  to  push  against  the  walls  of  obstacles  that  sur- 
round him, —  has  indeed  to  hurl  himself  against 
them.  Here,  however,  is  a  place  of  least  resistance, 


THE  WAY  OUT  313 

the  barrier  yields  as  an  unbarred  door,  and  lets 
him  easily  forth  into  the  wide  realm  where  he  may 
with  further  contention  force  his  way  on.  I  have 
found  that  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  fuse  what 
I  have  of  acquired  knowledge  with  the  primal  sym- 
pathies the  way  has  been  made  easy.  The  main 
difficulty  is  that  the  understanding  came  at  a  tune 
when  the  barriers  of  acquired  habit  reinforced  those 
of  an  inherited  nature,  so  that  the  task  has  been 
harder  than  it  would  have  been  hi  youth. 

One  of  the  most  serious  difficulties  that  those  who 
fare  on  this  way  to  enlargement  have  to  face  arises 
from  the  state  of  our  traditions  and  literature  re- 
lating to  contacts  with  the  neighbor.  Although 
this  body  of  transmittenda  is  full  of  nobility,  of  self- 
sacrifice,  of  tender  care  for  fellow-men,  hi  aspirations 
for  their  betterment,  it  is  curiously  lacking  in  illus- 
tration that  relates  to  contact  with  the  fellow-man 
and  skill  in  entering  to  his  needs.  Those  who  know 
in  a  general  way  something  of  literature  are  likely 
to  recall  but  few  instances  of  men  or  deeds  hi  which 
this  side  of  human  action  is  nobly  portrayed.  The 
sayings  of  Christ,  especially  the  parable  of  the  Good 
Samaritan,  Sidney's  "  cup  of  water,"  and  some  others 
less  indicative,  are  all  that  I  recall.  Few  of  them 
take  account  of  the  deep  that  parts  man  from  man^ 
or  of  the  cry  for  succor  that  comes  over  it  as  from 


314  THE  NEIGHBOR 

the  shipwrecked  to  their  comrades  for  help.  The 
truth  is  that  the  effects  of  the  individualizing  pro- 
cess on  the  status  of  man,  the  loneliness  it  brings 
and  the  obligation  of  mutual  help  that  it  entails, 
have  not  yet  entered  into  our  thought.  We  need  the 
poet  and  the  seer  to  give  this  lesson  a  support  that 
science  alone  cannot  give. 

As  this  matter  of  bettering  the  mode  of  contact 
of  men  with  men  is,  from  the  point  we  are  viewing 
it,  essentially  a  scientific  undertaking,  the  inquirer 
would  best  set  about  it  in  the  fit  manner  of  an  in- 
quirer. It  will  be  well  first  for  him  to  note,  as  he 
may  readily  do  in  the  endlessly  repeated  experiment 
of  ordinary  life,  how  far  a  friendly  or  sympathetic 
attitude  to  the  nearest  of  his  neighbors,  the  mem- 
bers of  his  household,  contributes  to  his  enlargement. 
In  proportion  as  he  goes  forth  to  them  sympatheti- 
cally he  feels  that  he  is  out  of  prison,  while  even  a 
trifling  disagreement  puts  him  sensibly  hi  chains. 
When  in  his  ugly  humor  the  world  is  valueless,  its 
wealth  comes  back  on  the  tide  of  affection.  When 
we  observe  this  phenomenon,  as  all  men  have  had 
a  chance  to  do  since  our  genus  was  evolved,  the 
wonder  is  that  as  a  mere  following  of  this  path  of 
least  resistance,  and  for  no  more  than  evident  profit, 
kindliness  has  not  become  a  firmly  established  habit 
of  man.  A  little  further  observation  will  show  that 


THE  WAY  OUT  315 

there  is  in  us  the  more  ancient,  and,  in  its  time, 
profitable  habit  of  self -regarding,  a  mighty  devil 
which  contends  against  the  newer  and  higher  na- 
ture we  know  as  the  Lord.  Thus  in  the  commonest 
of  our  experiences  we  are  brought  experimentally 
hi  contact  with  the  very  heart  of  the  great  moral 
problem  that  we  all  have  to  face. 

To  develop  the  path  of  experiment,  the  inquirer 
will  do  well  to  seek  contact  with  some  person  be- 
longing to  a  group  which  he  feels  to  be  far  remote 
from  him,  for  instance,  a  common  laborer.  Observ- 
ing first  that  this  man,  because  of  his  aspect,  and, 
more  than  that,  because  of  the  prejudices  with  which 
we  conceal  his  visible  quality,  seems  exceedingly 
remote,  the  student  should  proceed  to  explore  him 
with  that  open  mind  which  it  is  the  bounden  duty 
of  the  naturalist  to  take  with  him  in  his  work  of 
research.  From  much  experience  I  can  be  perfectly 
sure  that  the  result,  provided  the  exploration  is 
complete,  will  be  a  conviction  that  this  particular 
form  of  the  alien  is  in  all  essentials,  in  all  that  goes 
to  make  a  man,  a  true  kinsman.  The  differences  are 
of  no  more  than  atomic  weight  compared  with  the 
planetary  mass  of  likeness.  If  this  task  is  well  done, 
the  discovery  of  kinship  thus  attained  is  fit  to  be 
ranked  with  the  greatest  that  the  naturalist's  ex- 
perience can  give,  and  among  the  most  profitable. 


316  THE  NEIGHBOR 

The  inquirer  must  not  suppose  that  he  can 
go  straight  about  the  exploration  of  his  neighbor 
which  he  is  here  advised  to  make.  The  matter,  like 
most  profitable  inquiries  into  the  unknown,  is  one 
of  much  difficulty,  and  requires  the  ingenuity  of  the 
true  experimenter.  The  specimen  must  be  caught 
and  kept  under  conditions  which  will  permit  obser- 
vation. He  cannot  be  captured  hi  a  fly  net  and 
fixed  with  a  pin  in  a  favorable  attitude  for  study,  as 
some  sociologists  essay  to  do.  He  must  be  caught 
in  the  net  of  sympathy  and  explored  by  friendli- 
ness, else  it  will  not  be  possible  to  see  him  clearly 
enough  to  make  out  his  likeness  to  ourselves.  This 
task  is  difficult  enough,  but  it  is  one  of  the  most 
rewarding  that  can  be  undertaken.  At  first  sight 
the  reader  may  be  offended  at  the  very  idea  of  culti- 
vating friendly  relations  with  one  essentially  alien 
for  the  deliberate  purpose  of  experiment.  I  confess 
that  in  the  statement  it  does  appear  revolting.  Yet 
the  offense,  as  will  be  found  in  the  endeavor,  is  but 
fanciful,  for  the  relation  at  once,  and  of  necessity, 
becomes  perfectly  human,  diff ering  from  other  friend- 
ships only  in  the  fact  that  scientific  curiosity — a 
perfectly  worthy  motive  —  stands  beside  the  union, 
noting  what  makes  for  wisdom.  Of  all  the  host  of 
motives  that  lead  men  to  come  near  to  one  another, 
this  is  among  the  wholesomest.  Even  if  the  person 


THE  WAY  OUT  317 

who  is  thus  approached  comes  in  time  to  know  that 
he  was  chosen  as  a  subject  for  inquiry,  he  will,  if  he 
has  become  friendly  with  the  inquirer,  be  hi  no  wise 
troubled.  Friendship  is  an  ample  mantle  that  easily 
covers  far  worse  offenses  than  this. 

Having  extended  his  conceptions  of  what  consti- 
tutes a  man,  by  satisfying  himself  that  the  most  out- 
lying members  of  his  own  stock  are  essentially  like 
himself,  the  inquirer  should  then  apply  the  same 
method  of  closely  sympathetic  yet  observant  con- 
tact to  some  distinctly  alien  race.  History  shows 
with  almost  appalling  certainty  that  the  Jews  afford 
the  best,  if  not  the  only  instance,  hi  which  we  can 
readily  find  contacts  on  terms  of  perfect  intellectual 
equality  with  a  very  alien  people.  Judged  by  the 
evidence,  what  we  may  call  the  modulus  of  alienity 
of  these  people  from  our  own  is  to  be  reckoned 
as  greater  than  in  the  case  of  the  Chinese,  or  the 
American  Indians,  or  indeed  any  other  of  the  high 
races.  We  may  be  certain  that  in  proportion  as  the 
Jew  is  comprehended,  he  will  exasperate  the  Aryan, 
and  this  feeling  will  grievously  interfere  with  the 
inquiry.  But  if  he  be  a  true  observer,  it  will  stimu- 
late his  curiosity,  for  he  will  find  himself  in  the  pre- 
sence of  a  most  interesting  subject  of  inquiry,  and 
will,  after  the  manner  of  the  true  naturalist,  surely 
fall  in  love  with  the  instructive  specimen. 


318  THE  NEIGHBOR 

If  the  Hebrew  who  serves  for  the  inquiry  be  a 
characteristic  example  of  his  race,  the  observer  will 
discover  that  while  the  former  has  all  the  character- 
istic qualities  of  the  Aryan,  each  in  essentially  the 
same  form  and  in  about  the  same  ratio,  they  work 
together  hi  a  way  so  different  that  the  effect  is 
baffling.  Just  here  he  finds  himself  upon  the  track 
of  the  explanation  as  to  the  dislike  of  these  races 
for  each  other.  They  are  near  enough  alike  to  sug- 
gest an  identity  of  spirit  which  makes  close  rela- 
tions possible,  but  the  differences  are  such  as  hinder 
the  two  kinds  of  men  from  matching  their  humors 
in  a  friendly  way.  They  feel  that  unhappy  condition 
termed  in  the  law  of  divorce  an  "  incompatibility  of 
temper  "  and  so  hasten  apart.  The  observer  may  be 
inclined  to  abandon  the  attempt,  but,  once  again,  he 
will,  if  he  be  a  true  inquirer,  reckon  with  his  testy 
humor  as  he  will  with  his  bad  eyes  or  clumsy  hand, 
and  set  about  the  task  of  finding  out  whether  these 
differences  are  really  such  as  to  prevent  friendly 
association.  If  his  result  is  what  my  experience 
indicates,  it  will  be  that,  once  we  give  over  the 
instinctive  yet  insensate  demand  for  the  neighbor 
to  be  ourself  in  another  skin,  and  are  prepared  to 
make  a  manly  allowance  for  differences  in  men,  the 
Jew  appears  as  a  very  admirable,  though  in  certain 
instances,  perhaps,  somewhat  disagreeable,  species  of 


THE  WAY  OUT  319 

our  genus.  In  a  word,  as  soon  as  we  bring  into  the 
assemblage  of  motives  which  operate  in  human  in- 
tercourse the  tolerant  spirit  of  inquiry,  of  catholic 
appreciation  for  what  the  world  offers,  these  varia- 
tions from  what  we  have  been  in  the  habit  of  con- 
sidering the  normal  man,  these  variations,  which, 
acting  on  the  clumsy  wits  of  common  men,  have 
shamed  this  earth,  become  little  more  to  us  than 
the  differences  hi  the  faces  of  our  friends,  some  of 
which  may  offend  us  though  they  all  are  dear. 

If  the  exploration  of  the  Jew  is  made  with  care 
on  a  number  of  good  examples  and  in  the  light  of 
the  history  of  that  people,  the  observer  will  be  likely 
to  come  to  the  conclusion  that  perhaps  they  have 
the  right,  from  the  naturalist's  point  of  view,  to 
be  regarded  as  the  type  or  highest  species  of  the 
genus  homo,  while  we  Aryans  must  content  our- 
selves with  the  second  place  in  the  series.  Measured 
in  terms  of  organic  endurance,  so  well  proved  by  the 
trials  to  which  our  species  has  subjected  them,  by 
the  stamping  power  of  their  blood,  or  by  their  in- 
tellectual and  moral  achievements,  they  are  clearly 
entitled  to  this  superior  station.  Against  this  array 
of  Semitic  capacities  we  can  set  only  the  construc- 
tive power  of  our  own  race  as  it  is  manifested  in 
the  government-shaping  ability,  together  with  the 
capacity  for  research  into  nature  and  into  the  me- 


320  THE  NEIGHBOR 

chanic  arts,  in  all  of  which  fields  the  Jew  is  infe- 
rior to  the  Aryan.  The  conclusion  of  the  inquirer  is 
likely  to  be  that  the  Semite  is,  on  the  whole,  the 
ablest  type  of  man  the  world  has  known,  but  a  type 
which  is  somewhat  archaic  for  the  reason  that  its 
powers  are  not  those  most  intimately  related  to  the 
life  of  the  genus  in  its  present  stage  or  hi  its  fore- 
seeable future,  because  they  do  not  take  hold  on  the 
natural  realm. 

If,  after  studying  the  peculiarities  of  the  Jew,  the 
student  of  human  nature  turns  to  the  Negro,  he  will 
find  a  subject  of  inquiry  no  less  interesting  though 
very  different.  He  will  find  that  in  the  Jew  we  have 
a  singularly  fixed  type  of  the  highest  quality,  one  so 
fixed  that  despite  its  exceeding  range  and  scope  the 
essential  nature  is  always  marked.  Moreover,  as 
before  noted,  the  observer  has  to  learn  that  the  Jew 
has,  as  one  of  his  most  characteristic  and  unfortu- 
nate traits,  an  eminent  incapacity  for  imitating  any 
other  kind  of  man.  In  the  Negro,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  student  will  find  a  singularly  elusive  group 
in  which  it  is  almost  impossible  to  see  anything 
that  we  can  call  a  type.  It  is  true  he  may  take 
if  he  pleases,  as  is  commonly  done,  the  dark  skin 
and  woolly  hair  as  criteria,  but  a  little  knowledge 
of  anthropology  shows  that  such  indices  are  very 


THE  WAY  OUT  321 

deceptive,  for,  using  them  as  a  basis  for  classifica- 
tion, we  should  make  a  rare  hodge-podge  of  peo- 
ples ;  but  if  he  seeks  for  race  characteristics  of  the 
spirit,  as  our  inquiry  demands  that  he  should,  he 
is  sure  to  be  puzzled.  To  make  the  matter  more 
difficult,  the  people  known  in  this  country  as  Ne- 
groes have  a  curious  quality  of  imitativeness  not 
found  in  like  measure  among  other  folk  save  the 
native  Africans,  and  strangely  in  contrast  with  the 
incapacity  for  imitation  characteristic  of  the  Jews. 
The  result  is  that  the  inquirer  will  find  that  the 
blacks  do  not,  or  rather  cannot,  easily  reveal  them- 
selves to  us  as  they  really  are. 

As  the  observer  breaks  his  way  through  the  diffi- 
culties which  he  will  encounter  after  he  has  found 
that  the  Negro  is  not  an  Aryan  in  a  black  skin, 
he  discovers  the  most  interesting  type  of  primitive 
man  left  in  this  world,  and  learns  how  very  good 
this  primitive  may  be.  Perhaps  the  most  notable 
of  the  qualities  he  will  perceive  is  that  of  devotion 
to  the  strong  man  who  is  recognized  as  the  overlord. 
Some  of  this  humor  is  in  all  men,  even  in  our  own 
folk,  despite  all  the  ages  of  culture  to  which  they 
have  been  subjected,  but  in  the  Negro  it  is  primally 
strong,  for  the  creature  cannot  grow  to  his  normal 
state  without  such  support.  As  a  further  result  of 
the  same  quality,  he  is  in  a  simple  way  intensely 


322  THE  NEIGHBOR 

religious.  That  ancient  sense  of  peopled  spaces, 
which  has  been  expelled  from  our  kind,  abides  in 
him  and  gives  him  a  life  that  is  denied  to  us.  This 
religious  humor  is  in  all  lowly  people  but  slenderly 
connected  with  morality,  a  union  which  is  recent 
history  hi  our  own  race,  but  hi  the  Negroes  it  is 
united  with  the  whole  life  in  a  way  that  should 
make  it  possible  to  turn  it  into  that  channel.  The 
other  primal  motives  which  go  to  make  a  man,  such 
as  lust,  greed,  sense  of  the  droll  shown  hi  simple 
humor,  are  readily  discerned.  They  appear  to  exist 
hi  the  Negro  with  far  less  relation  to  each  other 
than  in  us,  so  that  the  man  is  shaped  by  his  moods 
and  less  by  interacting  motives.  The  only  evident 
lack  is  the  curiosity  which  leads  to  inquiry.  As  far 
as  we  can  speak  of  the  Negro  as  a  race  it  may  be 
said  that  this  impulse  hardly  exists. 

Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  Negroes  of  this  country 
are  a  confused  jumble  of  many  varieties  of  what  in 
the  fullness  of  knowledge  may  have  to  be  regarded 
as  several  distinct  races,  the  study  leaves  on  the  ob- 
server no  such  distinct  categoric  impression  as  does 
the  inquiry  into  the  Jews.  Some  of  the  many  Negro 
types  afford  specimens  which  in  essential  human 
quality  are  fit  to  be  classed  with  the  best  this  world 
affords.  Other  stocks  are  distinctly  brutal,  so  low, 
indeed,  that  they  are  not  the  material  for  the  uses 


THE  WAY  OUT  323 

of  civilization,  but  should  be  rejected  as  incapable  of 
improvement  by  any  resources  which  we  yet  know. 
The  commonest  elements  which  the  observer  will 
find  in  this  exceedingly  varied  folk  are  the  tendency 
to  adhere  to  any  masterful  man  with  whom  they 
come  into  contact,  and  a  fondness  for  music  of  such 
simple  order  as  fits  to  songs  or  to  the  dance.  These 
motives,  combined  with  enduring  bodies  and  with  a 
willingness  to  labor,  will  convince  the  inquirer  that 
he  is  in  contact  with  a  folk  who  can  be  turned  to 
good  account  in  a  commonwealth. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  result  gained  from 
a  close  study  of  the  Negro,  or  even  from  mere  inti- 
mate contact  with  his  kind,  is  a  curious  affection-  for 
them.  So  far  as  I  can  find,  this  feeling  apparently 
does  not  in  the  same  degree  spring  from  relations 
with  any  other  alien  stocks;  certainly  it  does  not 
come  in  like  measure  from  any  which  are  so  essen- 
tially alien  to  us.  Nothing  of  this  nature  develops 
from  an  acquaintance  with  the  distinctly  alien  Jews, 
with  American  Indians,  or  with  Chinese,  though  in 
all  those  folk  we  find  qualities  far  more  akin  to  our 
own.  The  reason  for  this  difference  probably  is  to  be 
found  in  the  very  strong,  though  unconscious,  desire 
of  the  Negro  to  shape  himself  on  the  masterful  race, 
and  the  lack  of  any  such  close-knit,  stubborn  race- 
character  as  we  find  in  other  peoples.  This  feature 


324  THE  NEIGHBOR 

makes  them  the  most  domesticable  of  all  the  lowly 
stocks,  for  it  gives  them  a  sure  way  to  the  hearts  of 
all  sympathetic  persons  who  come  to  know  them. 

When  the  observer  has  compassed  the  quality  of 
two  or  three  diverse  kinds  of  men,  he  will,  if  he  have 
a  trace  of  the  naturalist  in  him,  become  addicted  to 
such  inquiries.  There  is  indeed  no  field  of  research 
which  so  opens  the  way  to  largeness  of  understand- 
ing as  this,  for  in  it  we  find  not  only  the  satisfaction 
of  scientific  curiosity,  but  also  a  quickening  of  the 
human  sympathies  such  as  is  denied  the  student 
elsewhere  in  the  realm.  It  has  the  charm  of  history 
with  the  added  pleasure  of  having  the  living  text 
before  our  eyes.  At  the  same  time,  while  the  study 
of  diverse  races  is,  in  the  largest  measure,  helpful  in 
clearing  away  the  instinctive  prejudices,  it  is  well 
that  the  inquirer  should  not  limit  himself  to  the  di- 
versities of  stock  alone.  He  should  also  learn  some- 
thing of  the  variety  that  exists  in  his  own  race.  One 
of  the  most  unhappy  results  of  the  segregating  action 
of  a  high  social  order  is  that  men  commonly  know 
only  those  who  are  of  about  their  own  grade.  They 
would  be  larger  if  they  sought  the  chance  to  make 
acquaintance  with  the  whole  gamut  of  their  folk, 
those  who  are  in  the  prisons  as  well  as  those  in  the 
palaces.  In  fact,  a  man  remains  shamefully  ignorant, 


THE  WAY  OUT  325 

famed  though  he  may  be  for  learning,  if  he  has  not 
such  a  range  and  scope  of  knowledge  concerning  his 
people.  Personally  I  value  what  I  have  been  so  for- 
tunate as  to  gain  of  acquaintance  with  very  diverse 
sorts  of  men  more  highly  than  all  else  that  I  have 
won  hi  the  way  of  knowledge.  Such  will  be  the  con- 
clusion to  which  the  inquirer  who  faithfully  seeks  to 
know  mankind  will  surely  come,  for  he  will  find  that 
the  lessons  help  him  further  on  the  path  of  duty  than 
any  other  this  good  world  affords. 

Nothing  so  well  shows  the  obsessing  effect  of  the 
commonplace  as  the  neglect  of  all  deliberate  study 
of  men.  Psychologists  inquire  into  their  mental 
parts,  romancers  seek  from  them  situations,  now 
and  then  some  melancholy  Jacques  looks  a  bit  into 
their  sad  ways,  but  not  one  hi  a  million  of  us  tries 
to  see  what  these  most  interesting  of  all  things  are. 
I  have  known  many  students,  but  never  one  who 
gave  any  considerable  part  of  his  powers  to  the 
study  of  men  in  their  human  quality  with  a  view  to 
seeing  the  measure  of  their  diversities  and  their  fit- 
ness for  the  work  of  the  commonwealth.  We  cannot 
perhaps  hope  to  see  any  considerable  results  from 
such  study,  though,  fortunately,  it  does  not  need  to 
go  far  in  order  to  win  the  end  hi  view.  As  soon  as 
we  begin  to  take  men  in  the  way  of  inquiry  the  old 
brutal  attitude  towards  them  disappears.  Habit  will 


326  THE  NEIGHBOR 

lead  to  many  fallings  from  the  grace  it  brings,  but 
the  fact  that  it  is  a  relapse  into  the  old  iniquity 
will  be  at  once  evident,  and  they  will  occur  no 
oftener  than  the  other  assaults  of  the  devil  upon  a 
truly  moral  man.  To  him  there  will  be  no  more 
a  "dog  of  a  Jew"  or  a  "damned  nigger"  or  other 
accursed  shapes  of  men,  but  each  with  its  measure  of 
nobility  will  go  to  make  up  the  splendor  of  the  world. 
So  far  from  the  diversity  being  exasperating,  as  it 
necessarily  was  in  the  tribal  state  of  mind,  it  be- 
comes hi  this  view  an  enrichment  of  existence.  We 
are  no  longer  limited  to  one  quality  of  the  wine  of 
life,  we  come  to  know  and  to  love  all  its  vintages. 

To  apply  this  to  the  question  of  race  contacts  hi 
this  country  we  should  see  that  the  most  important 
feature  of  the  American  commonwealth  consists  in 
the  Ultimate  mixture  hi  its  society  of  exceedingly 
diverse  races.  Other  states  have  had  a  like  variety 
of  men  within  their  bounds,  but  in  those  instances 
the  various  peoples  have  been  geographically  seg- 
regated so  that  the  interaction  has  been  between 
masses  of  folk,  each  keeping  something  like  a  tri- 
bal isolation.  Where,  as  in  certain  of  the  European 
states,  they  were  blended  in  a  common  life,  the  vari- 
ous kinds  have,  with  rare  exceptions,  been  of  the 
same  race.  In  those  instances  where  by  chance  of 
conquest  diverse  stocks  have  been  brought  into  con- 


THE  WAY  OUT  327 

tact,  as  with  the  Moors  in  Spain  and  the  Jews  in 
many  fields,  there  has  been  continuous  trouble,  gen- 
erally resulting  in  the  expulsion  of  the  weaker  folk. 
It  is,  hi  a  word,  evident  that  hi  this  country  we  are, 
at  the  price  of  our  national  life,  to  accomplish  the 
task,  which  historically  seems  impossible,  of  merging 
all  these  discrepant  elements  hi  a  close-knit  society. 
The  question  is,  how  can  it  be  done  ? 

It  is  evident  that  it  is  a  condition  precedent  to 
any  success  hi  the  American  problem  of  govern- 
ment, based  as  it  is  on  a  great  human  complex,  that 
our  people  quickly  and  effectively  rid  themselves  of 
tribal  prejudices  so  that  they  can  face  their  task 
with  reason,  sternly,  as  needs  be,  yet  with  under- 
standing and  sympathy  for  the  folk  who  are  com- 
mitted to  their  hands.  Taking  the  large  view  of  the 
situation,  it  appears  that  the  first  step  should  be  to 
minimize  this  task  by  not  allowing  it  to  become  any 
greater  than  it  now  is.  The  ways  to  this  limitation 
are  evident.  They  are  to  avoid  additions  of  trouble 
through  immigration  and  through  the  annexation 
of  countries  peopled  by  folk  of  alien  stocks.  As  for 
the  limitation  of  resort  to  this  country,  it  should  be 
so  contrived  that  it  may  keep  out  those  varieties  of 
men  who  are  proved  by  their  history  to  be  unfit  for 
the  service  of  our  state.  It  would  take  us  too  far 
afield  to  discuss  this  limitation  in  detail,  but  it  is 


328  THE  NEIGHBOR 

clear  that  the  list  should  include  those  who  are  not 
of  our  race  except  the  Jews,  although  the  degraded  of 
these  should  be  excluded  together  with  such  com- 
posite folk  as  the  southern  Italians  and  those  from 
the  lower  Danube  and  the  Balkan  Peninsula.  As 
for  the  annexation  of  alien  populations,  it  should  be 
at  once  arrested,  and  so  far  as  possible  the  addi- 
tions made  of  late  should  be  so  disposed  of  that  they 
may  no  longer  burden  the  attention  of  our  people. 
We  have  indeed  none  of  that  to  spare. 

So  far  as  concerns  the  Aryan  and  Semitic  people 
now  with  us,  or  who  are  to  come,  it  is  evident  that 
we  may  reasonably  hope  that  they  will  blend  in 
such  a  measure  as  will  make  a  safe  common  element 
of  population.  The  conditions  of  our  life  greatly 
favor  such  a  union.  A  century  of  experience  shows 
that  our  system  of  education,  through  the  social  life 
even  more  than  through  schooling,  serves  well  to 
bring  this  result  about,  and  that  the  result  of  the 
admixture  is  physically  and  mentally  good  provided 
the  original  material  is  not  degenerate.  The  need 
here  is  to  contend  against  a  manifest  tendency  of 
these  aliens  to  segregate  into  communities  hi  a  man- 
ner that  prevents  their  effective  union  with  the  body 
of  our  folk.  This  has  been  and  still  is  productive 
of  evils,  the  last  instance  of  it  being  that  of  the 
Pennsylvania  Germans,  who,  although  two  centuries 


THE  WAY  OUT  329 

on  the  soil,  have  to  this  day  remained  in  large  part 
an  isolated  people  but  little  nearer  to  our  life  than 
when  they  came  from  the  lower  Rhine  valley.  An- 
other clear  case  is  that  of  the  Canadian  French, 
whose  separation  hinders  the  development  of  the 
Canadian  Dominion  and  is  a  serious  menace  to  its 
future.  Of  the  same  nature  are  the  Irish  and  Ger- 
man aggregations  in  our  great  cities,  where  the  ten- 
dency is  to  keep  the  stocks  parted  from  the  life  of 
the  country  so  that  the  generations  born  here  may 
for  many  steps  retain  their  alien  character.  There 
are  no  evident  means  by  which  this  evil  may  be 
restrained  through  enactment,  but  now  that  there 
are  no  public  lands  to  be  occupied  by  colonies  from 
abroad  it  is  only  in  our  cities  that  it  is  likely  to  be 
increased.  To  break  up  the  score  or  more  of  such 
foreign  plantations  which  now  exist,  the  law  should 
require  the  English  language  to  be  the  only  means 
of  official  communication.  If  German  or  other  for- 
eign tongues  are  taught  in  the  public  schools  it 
should  not  be  to  perpetuate  their  use  but  because  of 
their  value  in  education. 

All  the  other  difficulties  of  our  race  problem,  how- 
ever, are  insignificant  compared  with  that  which 
arises  from  the  presence  of  ten  millions  of  Negroes 
in  this  country.  In  dealing  with  this  mighty  ques- 
tion there  are  certain  primary  considerations  which 


330  THE  NEIGHBOR 

have  to  be  faced.  The  first  is  that  these  Africans 
are  ineradicably  alien,  in  that  it  is  not  possible  to 
unite  their  blood  with  that  of  our  race.  The  results 
of  centuries  of  experiment  show  beyond  all  question 
that  this  union  cannot  be  effected  without  the  loss 
of  the  qualities  which  give  our  Aryan  race  its  singu- 
lar value.  The  conditions  demand  that  the  blood  of 
the  races  be  kept  entirely  apart.  Such  is  clearly  the 
judgment  we  have  to  make  even  in  face  of  the  fact 
that  some  able  men  have  arisen  who  are  of  the 
mixed  race.  The  next  point  seems  to  me  even  as 
clear ;  the  body  of  our  African  people,  though  fit  for 
the  simpler  duties  of  citizenship,  are  not  yet  fit  for 
the  task  of  government,  for  which  indeed,  as  the  ex- 
perience of  ages  shows,  few  peoples  even  of  our  own 
race  are  suited.  It  is  unhappily  evident  that  the 
presence  of  this  unenfranchisable  folk  will  make 
it  necessary  to  limit  the  suffrage  within  a  large 
part  of  this  country  in  a  way  that  would  not  other- 
wise be  necessary,  in  a  way  that  is  in  itself  very 
undesirable.  The  right  to  vote  will  have  to  rest 
on  education  or  on  the  possession  of  property ;  or, 
perhaps,  it  will  be  expedient  to  require  both  these 
qualifications. 

By  the  adoption  of  the  qualification  of  education  no 
new  principle  will  be  introduced  into  our  system, 
for  it  rests  on  the  assumption  that  the  citizen  is  a 


THE  WAY  OUT  331 

literate  person,  and  the  requirement  of  proof  is  in  ac- 
cordance with  this  theory.  Moreover,  this  is  already 
the  law  in  some  of  the  states  of  this  Union.  The 
institution  of  a  property  qualification  would  be  a  re- 
turn to  a  system  which  was  general  in  the  early  days 
of  this  country.  It  was  abandoned  without  much  con- 
sideration, partly  from  the  conviction,  then  not  un- 
reasonable, that  the  electorate  body  would  be  trust- 
worthy, even  if  those  on  the  verge  of  pauperism 
were  admitted  to  it.  There  can  be  no  question  that 
there  are  great  evils  attendant  on  the  possession  of 
the  franchise  by  some  millions  of  our  people  who 
have  given  no  evidence  of  fitness  for  citizenship 
and  who  are  not  at  all  subject  to  taxation.  Taking  a 
rational  view  of  the  state,  it  may  in  the  main  fairly 
be  regarded  as  a  corporation  for  the  management  of 
property,  so  that  the  right  to  vote  logically  inheres 
in  the  stockholders,  and  not  in  those  who  incident- 
ally share  in  the  advantages  it  affords.  A  state  is 
else  than  a  corporation,  but  that  else  is,  with  the 
advance  in  the  general  social  order,  steadily  becom- 
ing less  important.  Except  we  hold  to  the  ancient 
preposterous  notion  that  a  male  human  at  one  and 
twenty  years  of  age  suddenly  becomes  endowed  with 
a  right  to  share  in  ruling  the  commonwealth,  we 
can  see  no  right  that  could  be  infringed  by  a  re- 
quirement that  the  voter  should  prove  either  that 


332  THE  NEIGHBOR 

he  earns  a  fair  wage  or  holds  a  certain  amount  of 
property.  On  these  accounts  it  does  not  seem  a  seri- 
ous breach  with  our  traditions  to  limit  the  suffrage 
in  the  manner  hi  which  it  evidently  has  to  be  limited 
in  order  to  exclude  so  much  of  the  essentially  alien 
population  of  this  country,  Negro  and  other,  as  is 
necessary  to  insure  its  safety.  We  may  regret  the 
change,  but  cannot  regard  it  as  in  any  way  break- 
ing with  our  most  valuable  traditions. 

While  a  limitation  of  the  suffrage  by  educational 
or  property  qualification  or  both  may  not  be  harm- 
ful, may  even  be  advantageous,  any  system  which 
makes  it  depend  upon  race  would  be  hi  the  highest 
manner  destructive  to  our  institutions.  It  would 
strike  at  the  heart  of  the  principle  of  equal  opportu- 
nity for  equal  talent  which  is  the  organic  centre  of 
our  commonwealth.  Therefore  while  I  am  hi  favor 
of  the  changes  in  the  constitutions  of  the  Southern 
States  which  have  limited  the  franchise,  I  regard  the 
purpose  of  disfranchising  the  ignorant  Negroes,  while 
leaving  the  equally  ignorant  whites  still  in  possession 
of  the  suffrage,  as  so  far  a  restoration  of  the  tribal 
system  which  it  has  been  the  task  of  our  common- 
wealth to  overthrow.  As  for  the  miserable  subter- 
fuge commonly  known  as  the  "  grandfather  clause," 
by  which  this  end  was  accomplished,  I  am  ashamed 
that  it  should  have  been  invented  by  Americans. 


THE  WAY  OUT  333 

Although  the  people  of  the  late  slaveholding  states 
have,  in  the  difficult  situation  due  to  the  presence 
of  the  freedmen,  made  some  serious  blunders,  still 
there  is  good  reason  to  hope  that  they  will  soon  find 
the  way  to  a  satisfactory  adjustment  of  the  rela- 
tions of  the  two  races.  We  may  found  this  hope  on 
the  fact  that  the  people  of  this  part  of  the  country 
have  a  rare  capacity  for  the  tasks  of  government. 
That  part  of  the  stock  which  is  from  the  origi- 
nal Southern  Colonies,  especially  from  Virginia,  has 
shown  more  genius  and  devotion  in  such  work  than 
any  other  people.  The  history  of  slavery  in  these 
states  indicates  that  in  general  the  whites  under- 
stand the  Xegro  and  are  able  to  win  his  devotion 
hi  a  measure  not  found  elsewhere.  For  a  generation 
there  has  been  much  confusion,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected as  a  consequence  of  the  very  great  social  revo- 
lution due  to  the  Civil  War  and  to  the  emancipation 
of  the  slaves ;  but  when  the  history  of  these  condi- 
tions comes  to  be  written,  the  marvel  will  be  that, 
taken  as  a  whole,  the  social  and  public  order  of  the 
country  has  been  so  well  preserved.  Not  only  has 
there  been  no  approach  to  a  war  of  races,  but  the 
economic  condition  has  steadily  and  swiftly  bettered, 
until  at  the  present  time  the  district  which  thirty- 
five  years  ago  was  the  most  impoverished  ever  occu- 
pied by  an  English  people  is  perhaps  the  most  pros- 


334  THE  NEIGHBOR 

perous  of  its  fields.  This  alone  proves  the  organizing 
capacity  of  the  Southern  folk,  and  affords  a  happy 
augury  for  their  future  management  of  the  great 
problem. 

To  obtain  the  full  value  of  the  Negroes  to  the 
commonwealth,  it  is  necessary  to  shape  action  hi 
reference  to  them  with  a  clear  understanding  of 
the  diversity  of  their  nature  due  to  the  very  great 
variety  of  stocks  and  even  of  races  which  exists 
among  them.  It  is  my  conviction,  based  on  much 
study  of  the  black  people,  that  a  considerable  part 
of  them  will  be  found  very  well  fitted  for  the  more 
serious  duties  of  citizenship,  and  that  with  fit  help 
in  education  and  incentive  somewhere  near  half  of 
them  can  be  uplifted  to  a  plane  where  they  will  con- 
tribute to  the  quality  of  the  state.  Of  the  remainder, 
the  most  that  can  be  hoped  is  that  they  will  make 
useful  laborers.  In  this  lower  group  there  is  a  rem- 
nant, probably  not  five  per  cent  of  the  whole  black 
population,  which  retains  so  much  of  the  primitive 
brute  that  it  cannot  be  turned  to  account.  It  is  from 
this  very  small  part  of  the  folk  that  comes  the  class 
of  outrages  which  constitute  the  real  menace  of  the 
situation.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  proportion  of  this 
primitively  brutal  element  of  the  Negro  popula- 
tion exceeds  much,  if  at  all,  the  corresponding  de- 
generate and  otherwise  base  material  in  the  whites, 


THE  WAY  OUT  335 

but  it  seems  probable  that  it  is  more  inclined  to 
crimes  against  the  person,  particularly  to  assaults  on 
women.  Naturally  these  atrocities  excite  rage,  but 
this  is  too  often  visited  unreasonably  on  the  unof- 
fending body  of  the  blacks,  who,  if  in  close  social 
contact  with  the  whites,  are,  as  is  well  proved  by 
the  history  of  the  people  in  slavery,  no  more  given 
to  such  offenses  than  those  of  our  own  race.  It 
would  be  quite  as  reasonable  to  condemn  the  Eng- 
lish stock  for  the  offenses  of  its  criminals  as  to  con- 
demn the  Negroes  as  a  whole  for  such  crimes,  which 
probably  do  not  occur  in  one  in  ten  thousand  of 
that  people,  and  hi  only  the  lowest  part  of  the  very 
mixed  stock.  Here,  as  in  our  own  race,  this  class  of 
malefactors  should  be  weeded  out.  There  is  good 
reason  why  assailants  of  women  should  receive  the 
highest  punishment  of  the  law, —  that  they  may 
not  propagate  their  kind;  but  there  is  no  reason 
whatever  for  allowing  these  miscreants  to  preju- 
dice our  conduct  towards  a  valuable  body  of  folk 
who  are  akin  to  them  only  in  the  color  of  their  skins. 
It  may  be  said,  however,  that  the  Southern  people 
have  never  shown  any  general  disposition  to  take 
this  course. 

The  Southern  people  may  be  trusted  to  find  the 
value  of  the  Negro  in  his  new  condition  as  they  did 
in  the  old.  They  recognize  that  hi  this  vigorous, 


336  THE  NEIGHBOR 

very  human  folk,  they  have  a  supply  of  labor  which 
is  absolutely  necessary  in  fields  which  do  not  tempt 
white  people.  They  know,  or  must  learn,  that  the 
value  of  this  population  can  be  had  only  by  devel- 
oping and  suitably  promoting  those  of  the  blacks 
who  show  themselves  fit  for  advancement.  There  is 
no  other  way  open  to  us  except  to  trust  the  future 
of  the  Negro  to  the  white  people  with  whom  he  is 
in  contact.  All  the  expedients  of  the  reconstruc- 
tion period  resulted  in  hindering  the  advance  of  the 
work  it  was  intended  to  accomplish,  for  the  reason 
that  it  set  the  races  over  against  each  other;  it 
broke  up  the  old  friendly  relation  which  had  effaced 
the  most  serious  of  the  tribal  prejudices,  and  set 
those  persons  in  flame.  Any  further  effort  to  force 
an  adjustment  will  be  likely  to  result  hi  something 
like  race  war.  That  we  best  trust,  and  may  fairly 
trust,  to  the  South  to  contrive  safety  and  justice  out 
of  the  situation  has  happily  become  evident  to  the 
whole  people.  By  putting  the  burden  on  those  who 
are  best  fitted  to  bear  it  we  shall  sooner  and  more 
surely  bring  them  to  deal  with  it  in  the  manner 
in  which  men  of  our  race  are  accustomed  to  deal 
with  grave  social  problems — painstakingly  and  with 
justice. 


INDEX 


IOTDEX 


ABNORMALITY  of  stranger  offen- 
sive, 165. 

Affection,  basis  in  mental  quality, 
29. 

Alien,  lack  of  rights  of,  42  ;  im- 
possibility of  profitable  subjuga- 
tion, 59  See  also,  Stranger. 

Animal  independence,  249. 

Assaults  on  women  by  Negroes, 
148.  See  also,  "  outrages  by 
Negroes,  334. 

Associative  action  among  men, 
247. 

Atomic  field,  groupings  of  units 
in,  3. 

Atoms,  changes  of,  1,  3, 4. 

Auto  da  /<*,  99. 

Automatic  action,  16. 

Autonomic  motive  and  American 
Union,  66. 

Banneker,  151,  163, 178. 

Beavers,   constructive  habits  of, 

244. 
Blood  relationship   and   religion, 

266. 

British  government  in  India,  70. 
Brute  qualities,  early  appearance 

of  in  man,  236. 

Care  of  offspring,  effect  of  on  sur- 
vival of,  24. 

Categoric  motive,  134;  in  animals, 
192:  in  man,  193. 

Categoric  view,  replaced  by  sym- 
pathetic, 201. 

Categories,  necessity  of  revision 
of,  197;  revision  of,  through  af- 
fection, 200  ;  broken  down  by 
knowledge,  221 ;  modification  or, 
to  include  Negroes,  291. 

Cherokee  alphabet,  61. 

Christ  and  the  tribal  spirit,  274. 

Commonwealth,  ideal  of,  54. 

Communism,  mental,  in  animals, 
246. 

Consanguinity,  significance  of,  267. 

Contact,  with  the  neighbor,  way 
of  bettering,  218,  314  ;  not  to 


be  gained  through  science,  221: 
manner  of,  and  attitude  toward 
the  neighbor,  229. 

Contacts,  human,  effect  of  speech 
and  clothing  on,  36. 

Cooperation,  imitative,  in  verte- 
brates, 244. 

Cross-breeding,  effects  of,  160 ;  ef- 
fects on  Negro,  162.  See  also,  In- 
termarriage and  Miscegenation. 

Crowd-madness,  in  armies,  302 ; 
lesson  from,  307. 

Crowd  motive,  evolution  of,  253. 
See  also,  Mob  and  Throng. 

Cruel  motive  essentially  human, ' 
234. 

Cruelty,  of  Spanish,  91;  of  French, 
96;  tendency  to,  deep-founded, 
233;  natural  selection  and,  235. 

Cruelty  motive,  lessening  of  among 
Germanic  peoples,  230. 

Crusades,  94. 

Darwinian  and  LaMarckian  hypo- 
theses, 253. 

Dead,  contact  with,  31. 
Democracy,  ideal  of,  180. 
Difference,  importance  of,  49. 
Duty  of  man,  261,  308. 

Educational  and  property  qualifi- 
cations for  voters,  331. 

Emotions  and  categorizing,  196. 

English  modification  of  Roman 
rule,  56. 

Ethnic  barriers,  broken  by  Ma- 
hometanism,45  ;  failure  or  Chris- 
tianity to  break,  46. 

Ethnic  group,  bonds  of,  41. 

Ethnic  motive,  in  primitive  tribe, 
43;  obduracy  of,  50;  in  political 
development,  54;  treatment  of 
by  Roman  method.  55  ;  intensity 
of,  in  Jews,  65;  value  of,  69;  re- 
sult of  failure  to  understand  it. 
71. 

Experience,  inherited,  4, 16. 

Experiment,  value  of,  In  under- 
standing man,  315. 


340 


INDEX 


Family,  basis  in  ideal  of  kinship, 
47 ;  origin  of  affection  for,  265. 

Feralizing  of  domestic  animals, 
249. 

Field-mice,  constructive  habits  of, 
245. 

Future,  mammals  which  make  pro- 
vision for,  61. 

Gallio,  58. 

Gesture  language  primal,  216. 

Hatred,  in  lower  animals,  21 ;  modi- 
fied by  reason,  22 ;  result  of,  23  ; 
modified  by  sympathy,  23 ;  escape 
from,  260 ;  tribal,  and  commercial 
intercourse,  269. 

Hayti,  Negroes  in,  see  Negroes. 

Hebrew,  see  Jews. 

Identification  with  community,  de- 
sire of  individual  for,  258. 

Immigration,  limitation  of,  327. 

Incapacity  of  primitive  folk  to  en- 
dure toil,  61. 

India,  success  of  British  in,  70. 

Indians,  success  in  civilizing,  59  ; 
toiling  capacity  of,  62 ;  productive 
activity,  63;  relation  to  tribe,  68; 
social  prejudice  against,  197  ; 
dances  symbolic,  212. 

Individual,  separation  of,  from  his 
fellows,  204, 271 ;  influence  of  com- 
mon mind  on,  256. 

Individual  quality  of  man,  summit 
of  a  series,  204. 

Individuals,  as  source  of  influence, 
9 ;  grades  of  solitary  condition  of, 
36. 

Inheritances  of  man,  261,  308. 

Inherited  experience,  4;  lessening 
of,  16. 

Inherited  quality,  organic  features 
of,  4. 

Insects,  social  habits  of,  238. 

Instincts,  meaning  of,  243. 

Instinctive  action,  16. 

Instinctive  cooperation  in  verte- 
brates, 244. 

Intellect  and  evolution,  8. 

Intelligence,  definition  of,  10;  re- 
sult of  introduction  of,  11  ;  pri- 
mal and  rational  in  man,  19. 

Intermarriage,  of  Negroes  with 
whites,  laws  relating  to,  164, 176, 
328 ;  undesirability  of  Negroes 
with  Aryans,  330.  See  also,  Mis- 
cegenation and  Cross-breeding. 

Jewish  persecutions,  origin  of,  104. 

Jews,  intensity  of  religion  of,  65  ; 

Greek  and  Latin  authors  on,  72  ; 


agriculture  of,  75 ;  causes  of  mis- 
fortunes of,  77  ;  Roman  conquest 
of,  78 ;  Greek  comments  upon, 
78  ;  early  dislike  of,  82  ;  Roman 
authors  on,  83 ;  attitude  of  Chris- 
tian Europe  towards,  88 ;  en- 
trance into  northern  Europe,  89  ; 
capacity  for  finance,  91  ;  as 
money-lenders,  92 ;  expulsion  of, 
from  Spain,  92  ;  outbreaks 
against,  in  France,  93,  96  ;  out- 
breaks against,  in  England,  95  ; 
affected  by  Renaissance,  98  ; 
amelioration  of  condition  of,  in 
Germany,  99  ;  legal  emancipation 
of,  in  France,  100  ;  social  station 
of,  102 ;  religious  motive  in  social 
status  of,  106 ;  Aryan  feeling  of 
repulsion  for,  108  ;  the  world's 
ablest  folk,  116,  287  ;  physical  as- 
pect of,  116 ;  desire  for  profit,  118; 
not  skillful  actors,  120,  321  ;  in- 
ability to  adapt  themselves  to 
neighbor,  121. 

Kazans,  89. 

LaMarckian  and  Darwinian  hy- 
potheses, 253. 

Language,  purpose  of,  206. 

Lessmg,  100. 

Lethal  quality  of  man,  233. 

Love  in  human  relations,  294. 

Love  of  both  parents  for  offspring, 
26. 

Love,  of  males  for  offspring,  263  ; 
for  the  community,  264 ;  mo- 
ther's, see  Mother-love. 

Lynch  law  in  South,  150,  188  ;  mob 
spirit  in,  301. 

Maimed  persons,  instinctive  horror 
Of,  288. 

Man,  dynamic  value  of,  7 ;  ner- 
vous system  in,  17 ;  motives  of 
lower  animals,  18 ;  categoric  mo- 
tives in,  193  ;  individual  quality 
of,  204  ;  lethal  quality  of,  233  ; 
early  appearance  of  brute  quali- 
ties in,  236  ;  inheritances  or,  2C1, 
308  ;  duty  of,  261,  308  ;  value  of 
sympathy  to,  309  ;  value  of  ex- 
periment in  understanding,  315. 

Mediaeval  type  of  state,  53. 

Mendelssohn,  100. 

Mental  isolation,  effect  of,  on  evo- 
lution of  species,  251. 

Mental  understanding  in  animals, 
246. 

Metayer  system,  175. 

Militant  spirit,  development  of,  53. 

Militant  type  of  insects,  18. 


INDEX 


341 


Mind,  animal,  variability  of,  254. 

Miscegenation,  results  of,  60.  See 
also,  Intermarriage  and  Cross- 
breeding. 

Mob-spirit,  in  animals,  253  ;  endu- 
rance of,  300;  hypnotism  and, 
301.  See  also,  Crowd  and  Throne. 

Modification  of  motives  with  bod- 
ily changes,  248. 

Monogamic  habit,  development 
of,  25. 

Moral  life,  origin  of,  252. 

Moral  truths,  a  part  of  natural 
learning,  277. 

Mother-love  of  offspring,  in  lower 
vertebrates,  26  ;  developed  by 
touch,  34  ;  evidence  of,  283. 

Motive,  ethnic,  see  Ethnic  motive. 

Motive  of  tribe,  see  Tribal  motive. 

Motives  in  man,  18. 

Motives,  need  of  understanding 
natural  history  of,  259. 

Natural  selection,  effect  of,  on 
labor  habit,  62  ;  theory  of,  in  ac- 
counting for  cruelty  in  man,  235. 

Negroes,  capacity  to  endure  work, 
62,  127,  132, 133  note ;  death  rate 
of,  131 ;  ability  to  acquire  Eng- 
lish language,  133 ;  lack  of  his- 
toric sense,  135;  in  Hayti,  137; 
slight  sense  of  political  order, 
139, 157,  191 ;  business  incapacity, 
139 ;  development  of  sympathies, 
140 ;  faithfulness  of,  141, 321 ;  dis- 
inclined to  drunkenness,  147 ;  as- 
saults by,  148,335;  incapacity  for 
invention,  152  ;  aptitude  for  lan- 
guages, 153 ;  aesthetic  capacity, 
153;  disenfranchiseinent  of,  158, 
166,  181,  330;  and  the  professions, 

f.  167:  savings  banks  for,  170;  so- 
cial barriers  against,  176 ;  in  pub- 
lic office,  182  ;  federal  legislation 
for,  189 ;  ability  to  adapt  them- 
selves to  neighbor,  121;  violate 
ideal  of  man,  290;  dependence  of 
on  higher  race,  321,  323;  value  to 
the  commonwealth,  334. 

Neighbor,  seeking  of  ourselves  in, 
40;  importance  of  manner  of 
meeting  with,  114. 

Nervous  system  in  man,  17 ;  of  ver- 
tebrates, 14. 

Offspring,  care  of,  24. 

Organic  and  inorganic  groups  of 

individuals,  difference  between, 

3,  10,  227,  236. 

Patriotism,  is  it  crowd-madness? 
304. 


Personality  seen  in  other  person 
our  own,  28. 

Political  ideal,  development  of,  52. 

Primal  impulses.  34. 

Primitive  folk,  incapacity  to  en- 
dure toil,  61. 

Race  problem,  253,  329. 

Race  war,  possibility  of,  336. 

Rationality  and  instinctive  motive, 
18. 

Religion,  truly  gained  by  sympa- 
thy, 202;  breaks  down  categories, 
223;  where  ineffective,  269;  and 
science,  275  ;  failure  of,  against 
tribal  motive,  309,  312. 

Reproduction  and  sympathy.  262. 

Roman  method  of  rule,  65,  57;  its 
ideal  imperial  control,  58. 

Roman  system,  estimates  of,  58. 

Science  and  religion,  relation  of, 
275. 

Selection,  artificial,  effect  of,  250. 

Sequoia,  61. 

Skepticism,  its  relation  to  the  Re- 
formation and  to  science,  98. 

Species,  origin  of,  247  ;  definition 
of,  252. 

Specific  motive  in  animals,  253. 

State,  controlling  motive  of,  257  ; 
concept  of,  268. 

Stranger,  entering  on  relations 
with,  29  ;  an  object  of  suspicion, 
39  ;  mental  demand  made  on,  38. 
See  also,  Alien. 

Studying  of  men,  value  of,  281. 

Subjugation  of  aliens  on  other  than 
Roman  plan,  59. 

Suffering,  effect  of,  on  sympathies, 
35. 

Suspicion,  importance  of  putting 
away  of,  279. 

Sympathetic  way  of  approach,  225. 

Sympathy,  evolution  of,  18,  20, 263  ; 
tribal,  26 ;  towards  the  sufferer, 
32 ;  limited  by  language,  37  ;  com- 
munication of,  by  bodily  move- 
ment, 211  ;  primal  organic  neces- 
sity, 257  ;  value  of,  to  man,  309. 

Tabu,  212. 

"  Terror  "  supremely  human,  233. 

Throng,  behavior  of,  298.  See 
also,  Crowd  and  Mob. 

Tribal  habit  inherited,  62. 

Tribal  ideal,  permanence  of,  66. 

Tribal  motive,  extinction  of,  in 
America,  44  ;  barrier  to  civiliza- 
tion, 48  ;  endurance  of,  68  ;  bet- 
terment of,  266. 

Tribal  spirit  harmful,  46. 


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